


Overly Thoughtful Gryffindor Gifts

by countingcr0ws



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Hermione Granger, BAMF Pansy Parkinson, BAMF Ron Weasley, Bad Flirting, Bullying, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Draco Malfoy Has Long Hair, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, Draco Malfoy is a Little Shit, Dramatic Harry Potter, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gift Exchange, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter is Obsessed with Draco Malfoy, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hogwarts Head Boys & Head Girls, Hufflepuff Pride, Idiots in Love, M/M, Matchmaker Pansy Parkinson, Matchmaking, Oblivious Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson is a Good Friend, Party Games, Potions Class (Harry Potter), Roommates, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Snark, Snarky Draco Malfoy, Spin the Bottle, Subterfuge, Supportive Ron Weasley, Truth or Dare, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:27:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22131019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countingcr0ws/pseuds/countingcr0ws
Summary: Returning to Hogwarts for eighth year is great, but it could definitely be better. Nobody wants to listen to him talk about Malfoy, and Harry wishes that he could talk to Malfoy.Cue a gift exchange, alcohol fuelled parties and a looming deadline. Will our heroes ever get together?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 44
Kudos: 527
Collections: A Very Drarry Secret Santa 2019, Fics good enough to send to my sister





	1. 27 November, Wednesday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaesMora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaesMora/gifts).



> Betaed by [EvAEleanor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvAEleanor) and [Lily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/triggerlil) for working with me on this.
> 
> I apologise for how long it took! Let's all pretend that it's still Christmas, yay!

Harry jerked at the sharp kick to his ankle. Sitting back onto the bench, he turned to glare at Ron.

"Good job," Hermione announced blandly, eyes never leaving her tome of a book.

"Hermione!"

Ron shrugged, "Malfoy hardly comes for lunch anyway so please stop embarrassing yourself. Everyone's staring," he said around his mouthful.

Harry looked around the Great Hall, grimacing as a clique of Hufflepuff girls dissolved into giggles when he looked their way. "I just don't-"

" _'I just don't know why the Slytherins don't care enough to drag him to lunch. He's already so skinny and he can't afford to skip another meal. Besides it's not as if there's that much to study'_ ," Hermione mimicked in an exaggerated baritone as she flipped the page of her book. "To which I would reply–once again–that there is a lot to study if you wanted to, and then you would say that I wouldn't need to study so much if I had accepted a guaranteed spot at the Ministry." She set her fork down heavily as she looked into Harry's eyes.

" _Please_ just talk to him and save us all."

Harry's cheeks flushed as he wet his lips in disbelief.

" _Again_ ," Ron gasped, red in the face as he tried to work through his coughs, pumpkin juice entering the wrong pipe when he had laughed at Hermione's rant. "Save us again," he managed in between tight coughs, more occupied with making fun of Harry than saving his own life. 

Harry had worn out his friends' empathy half a month into the eighth year of school, and it was bad enough that Hermione and Ron would exchange _looks_ whenever he brought up Malfoy, but it was downright mean whenever they started to shut him up before he could even begin. It had to be said that while Harry was always talking about Malfoy, the regarding topics were a lot more varied than what Hermione and Ron presented them to be.

For example, he had initially begun with gripes about sharing a room with Malfoy, before he realised that Malfoy was a considerate roommate. The rants had then become about Malfoy's unnerving reticence, his occasional limp and prolonged absences, which would then progress to concerns about Malfoy's nightmares and his dietary habits or lack thereof–but alas, Hermione had already established the ban on Malfoy observations by then. While it was undeniable that his points would stagnate for a while until he made new observations, Harry felt that his friends should look at the variety he had to offer in the long run.

"Mate, here," Ron said as he set an apple before Harry forcefully. "Give this to Malfoy later during Transfiguration."

Harry exhaled sharply in annoyance. Another source of dissonance he experienced was how everyone seemed to have forgotten about the dynamics between himself and Malfoy. They did _not_ have civilised conversations. Malfoy and him communicated only through sarcasm, fits of rage, or with their limbs. The suggestions to talk to Malfoy, or give him nice things, was insensitive and upsetting.

He bit his upper lip under Hermione's challenging gaze, as if daring him to remind them the nature of their relationship.

"Malfoy doesn't like apples like this," he mumbled, pushing the fruit away as he watched both his friends exchange unwarranted, significant glances again.

"What?" Harry said hotly. "Malfoy doesn't!"

"Mate," Ron said with a slow shake of his head and a look of what seemed like pity. "It's getting a bit out of hand."

"No one gets it," he groaned as he deflated with a noisy exhale. He shoved his plate aside to lay his face on the polished wood.

"So what does Malfoy like then? Grapes? Pears? Figs? Oranges?" Hermione demanded, her voice getting shrill as the nearest bowls of fruits shot over their startled schoolmates violently to crash before her.

"Hermione, you're scaring Harry," Ron interrupted as he tried to wave the bowls away only for Hermione to slap his hand violently.

"No, Ronald! I've had enough of this pining! Harry needs to act on his concern and I'm sick of–"

Harry moaned incoherently as he pressed his eyes closed. He wished that they would stop arguing. Also, Malfoy liked his apples peeled, quartered, and cored. Anyone would know this if they spent just a little bit of time on Malfoy.

Harry opened his eyes just a fraction to watch his bickering friends before sneaking the fruit under the table, and into his bag. _Should he peel it for Malfoy? Would it be too weird? Was one apple enough for lunch?_ Harry's thoughts about Malfoy continued to mount.


	2. 30 November, Saturday

"Ayeeee," Seamus called when the floppy wizarding hat reached him. Harry watched nervously, ignoring the elbow to his side as the boy made a show of picking a name. 

"And the lucky person is–" Seamus paused heavily for excitement while Ernie MacMillan and Neville made drum roll noises on their thighs. 

"Harry Potter!" He announced as he pounced on Harry, "I'm your Secret Santa, Harry! Harry I love you!" He made noisy kissing noises over a squirming Harry, while the Hufflepuff girls looked on with poorly concealed jealousy.

"Get off me," Harry wheezed in laughter as he fended off the boy trying to crawl into his lap. "Dean, help! Your boyfriend!" He yelled as he felt himself sliding off the couch while flailing desperately. 

"Seamus, knock it off," Hermione said as she pulled the boy off firmly by the arm, a small smile of amusement on her lips when she met Harry's bright eyes and flushed cheeks. 

"Pick one," she nodded towards the hat now nudging against his knee. 

"Zabini! I'm your Secret Santa!" Seamus called out randomly as he waved at the group of Slytherins in the corner of the Eighth Year students' dorm. 

The boy's lips curved into a smirk. "That's great, Finnegan. I've always wanted to have a threesome with Gryffindors," he winked lasciviously as he nodded at Dean. "I'll unwrap you gently," he said as he mimed peeling something.

"You must have been a very good boy this year, Blaise," Malfoy said quietly to his friend as he looked at the glazed expression on Seamus' face. Malfoy raised a brow in question when Harry continued to stare at him instead of reaching for the hat.

Cheeks flushing, Harry ignored the quickening of his heart as he shoved his hand into the hat. Malfoy seemed to be in a better mood today, Harry thought as he tried to flick away the slip of paper that clung stubbornly to his hand. He wondered if Malfoy would turn in early. His nightmares had reduced recently, hadn't they?

Harry looked up to complain to Hermione about the paper when he finally registered the grave expression on his friend's face. He watched in confusion as Hermione frowned, her eyes widening as she pointed her jaw at the hat slightly. 

"Are you done, Harry?" She asked.

Harry swallowed. He registered the gravity of the situation, but he was unable to decipher what he had missed.

"Are you cheating, Harry?" Seamus asked as he broke away from his boyfriend's embrace. 

"It's Potter, Finnigan. Potter's moral compass would put us all to shame." Parkinson piped up from her perch on the armrest beside Malfoy. 

"There's always Longbottom, Pansy." Malfoy corrected. 

Harry smoothed his thumb across the paper stuck to his hand, wondering if he could make out the name. Was it a safe draw?

"You're holding things up, mate," Ron said apologetically from his position at the fireplace.

Harry sighed as he folded the paper back into half, holding it carefully in his palm as he pulled it out. Pressing it against his chest, he peeked at the name. 

"A good name?" Neville asked in concern. 

"Yeah," Harry replied quickly as he desperately tried to keep his expressions in check. He stared at Hermione in amazement, amused when she refused to meet his eyes even while she continued supervising the name-drawing.

It was just as well that Neville and him were held as references for integrity–because it surely did not apply to Hermione, who had been appointed as Head Girl. 

Harry focused on his amusement as he tried to ignore the tightness in his stomach when he peeked at Malfoy–who was already doing the same. Harry quickly looked away when he received a raised brow. 

_Now, what should he buy for Malfoy?_

\- 

"Did you get somebody good?" Harry asked when Malfoy finally returned from his nightly routine. Harry bit the insides of his cheek when he noticed the sudden stillness in the line of Malfoy's shoulders.

"I think so, why?"

Harry persisted stubbornly. "Just wondering. You seemed a bit worried when you got your name." 

"It's fine," Malfoy replied as he sent his toiletries, dirty clothes and cosmetic products away before sitting down at his desk with a sigh. 

"Do you already know what to buy for them?" Harry asked, setting his magazine aside. He had lifted a catalogue for Scrivenshaft’s from Hermione's bag and magicked it so that Malfoy would only see a dated edition of Seeker's Weekly. He watched as Malfoy levitated his satchel bag to sort his study materials.

"Yes, Potter. It's not so hard, is it?" Malfoy said with obvious impatience as he sent rolls of parchment to their respective trays labelled according to the subjects.

The consideration Malfoy put into his studies could rival Hermione's. Malfoy would pack his bag every night before he turned in, filing his notes and essays before checking his calendar to gather the assignments and textbooks for the next day. Having accustomed to throwing a lightening charm on his schoolbag, Harry would bring all of his textbooks with him. Unlike Malfoy's desk, Harry's comprised of messy stacks of papers he pulled out of his bag whenever it became hard to search for items. He had also sworn to file his notes away a month ago, but to no success. 

"How many presents are you buying?" 

"Four, of course," Malfoy replied distractedly as he began to scribble away on his organiser. 

Harry sighed as he fell back onto his bed. He had finally listened to Hermione and initiated conversation with Malfoy, but all these exchanges seemed more like harassment on his part.

 _W_ _hy wouldn't Malfoy talk to him?_ Harry groaned noisily into his pillow as he rolled around his bed in agony. Absorbed in his antics, he wished that Malfoy would express concern, but was alas, too preoccupied by his own misery to catch the prolonged look of horror on Malfoy's face as he glanced backwards fearfully.


	3. 2 December, Monday

Harry dropped his bag onto the desk carelessly as he sunk into the chair beside Malfoy.

"Problem?" Harry stopped rifling through his bag for a moment to raise a brow at his seatmate.

"Yes! You're not supposed to sit here!"

"Oh, the seat is taken?" Harry asked as he pretended to look around. 

"Yes, by Blaise!" Malfoy hissed, fists clenched. His eyes were bright with anger. 

The sudden resurgence of the Malfoy who gave it as good as he got was overwhelming for Harry. Malfoy's shoulders were tight, his mouth twisted, and he seemed ready to leap at him for a fight. Harry hadn't realised how much he had missed this side of Malfoy. The tired, mousy demeanour disturbed him. 

"Well, Blaise was still having lunch when I left, and Slughorn doesn't care about seating, so this is my new seat." Harry shrugged with exaggerated ambivalence. He placed his copy of _Advanced Potion-making_ on the table without looking away from Malfoy, challenging him to do something, _anything_ , really. He bit back a smile when he noticed Malfoy's knuckles turn white. 

"Fine, Potter. Fine!" Malfoy slammed his hand onto the bench to swipe his own textbook off. "You act like you're so benevolent but you're no better than your cronies. You want my blood, right? Fine!" Malfoy shouted, fumbling with his ingredients as his hands trembled with fury.

Harry was overcome with horror. He had miscalculated the situation and Malfoy seemed to think that he was mocking him. This was why he shouldn't have even approached Malfoy! Things always went south! 

"Malfoy, no. Wait," he pleaded. He held onto Malfoy's bony wrist only to be flung off violently as Malfoy continued to pack. The both of them paused when the door to the dungeon opened. Harry felt his heart speed up at the sight of the Slytherins. 

"Blaise, can I be Malfoy's Potions partner? I need help and Malfoy's the best," he rushed out as the Slytherins froze at the doorway, taking in the tension with guarded expressions. 

"I'll work hard! And I'll study!" Harry tacked on quickly when Zabini merely raised a cool brow at him. "Please," he said, not above begging to make Malfoy spend time with him. 

Zabini shrugged. "Alright, but I'm going to be honest, _Harry_. Your Potions is so bad, you'll probably need to start from first year materials. Maybe you could speed it up if my boy helped you with that studying," he said as he sauntered down the aisle beside Malfoy lazily. He gave Malfoy a squeeze on the shoulder as he settled into the bench beside theirs in an unaffected sprawl.

It was more than Harry had ever expected! Potions theory with Malfoy? Harry felt faint in anticipation, flushing as he peeked as Malfoy. The fight in Malfoy's body had ebbed and he now looked weary and defeated. 

"Potter, I'll be coming for you if you even breathe wrong around Draco," Pansy threatened.

"No worries, Parkinson. Just hoping for his Potions genius," Harry said casually as he returned to his bag, wondering if he should pass Malfoy the apple from last week.

"Potions genius and more," Nott remarked quietly. Harry felt his cheeks flush as Malfoy's hand jerked while flipping his textbook. 

"Shut up," Harry said as he placed the apple beside Malfoy, heady with his success in manipulating Malfoy. He had already used Malfoy's friends to establish scheduled relations; and there would only be improvements in store. 

"Thanks," he whispered to Malfoy, nudging the apple when Malfoy frowned at him, lips in a twisted sulk. 

Shrugging when Malfoy didn't react, Harry returned to his book, trying to make himself look busy as he thought about Ron and Hermione's arrival, and the presents he had ordered for Malfoy. 

-

"There it is!" Harry exclaimed as he pushed the door to their room open. 

"Don't block the door, Potter," Malfoy said with a nudge. 

Harry quickly moved away and falling into his messy bed. "Are you going to open it?" He asked as he watched Malfoy–while trying his best to not seem too invested. He had returned earlier to find the present on Malfoy's bed, and he had spent an hour lounging about impatiently before settling down to wait for Malfoy at the common room instead. 

Potions that afternoon had been good. Malfoy had not let him handle the brewing, but he had been reasonable–almost _kind_ –with his grudging nods and lack of insults. Malfoy had even pointed him to the right knife, even offering a gruff explanation for its use.

Between wrapping the present with Hermione, plotting to become Malfoy's Potions partner, wondering when he could request for his Potions coaching and waiting for Malfoy's return, Harry had spent the entire day thinking about his roommate. He was disappointed when Malfoy only shrugged as he hung up his robes.

"You're going to shower without opening it?" Harry asked in disbelief. "I can't believe it! Malfoy, this is serious! I _need_ to open it and it's not even mine!" He gaped when Malfoy only continued to prepare for his shower. He was sure that he had seen the flicker of intrigue in Malfoy's eyes before it had quickly flashed to fright and deliberate nonchalance. 

Pulling his jumper off, Malfoy's reluctance to open the gift finally struck him. _Merlin, he needed to work on his deduction skills._ "Wait, Malfoy," he called out as he tossed his tie onto his bed. He rattled off the series of spells Hermione had taught him to determine the safety of posts from strangers.

"Let's go together," Harry said when the gift emanated a green glow of safety. Summoning his toiletries quickly, he pretended to miss the flush on Malfoy's cheeks. 

\- 

Harry tried his best react normally when Malfoy unwrapped the present–a pair of blue socks with cartoon Harry Potter faces over them. 

"Your first Harry Potter themed merchandise," he joked as he gestured Malfoy to throw the present over. He had purchased the socks on a whim while flipping a discarded catalogue in the library. Knowing Malfoy's picky tastes, the quality of the wool had been a great relief. 

"It's a weird gift, isn't it? Though I guess that it seems pretty well made," Harry commented as he pretended to feel the fabric of the socks. "Are you going to wear it?" He asked nervously as he watched Malfoy read the note he had written. Why was Malfoy frowning at it? 

"I think so," Malfoy said when he finally set the note aside, brow raising when Harry quickly freshened the fabric. 

"Desperate to be under my feet again?" Malfoy asked with as he tugged them on. 

Harry felt himself flush. He had referenced the train incident in sixth year where Malfoy had stepped on his face in the note. Did Malfoy's comment imply that he appreciated the humour? 

"For old time's sake, why not?" He replied, acutely aware that it was the first time Malfoy had ever joked with him. Harry was worried that he would scare Malfoy away with a wrong word. 

"Well, it doesn't have to be if you–" Malfoy started to reply with a smirk before stopping abruptly.

"If I what," Harry pressed. 

"If you nothing," Malfoy replied as he vanished the parchment paper Harry had used as a wrapper. He sent the note away to a drawer in his bedside table before pulling the corner of his comforter, already preparing to turn in. 

Harry felt his shoulders slump, recognising a lost cause when he saw one. Malfoy had withdrawn into his shell and there was no way Harry could draw him out, short of starting a fight. 

"Anyway, I think that your gifter is brilliant. Can you tell me whenever you receive more gifts? I'd like to see them too," Harry asked as he pulled his spectacles off carelessly before setting it aside. 

"Alright," Malfoy said quietly as he laid down.

Harry smiled to himself as he thought about the cartoon Harry Potters on Malfoy's warm feet in the dark cocoon of Malfoy's comforter. 

"Thanks," he said as he tucked his wand under his pillow, sighing when the lights in the room went out. "And for the short Potions lesson today," he added into the darkness. He bit his lips when Malfoy only grunted in response.

"And for agreeing to teach me Potions," he tacked on as he turned around to face Malfoy's bed. 

"Shut up." 

"Alright," Harry laughed, smiling when he noticed Malfoy looking at him in the dim illumination of the moon. Harry went to sleep contented, giddy with amusement and gratitude towards Malfoy. 


	4. 5 December, Thursday

Harry quickly stowed the presents under his comforter when he heard somebody at the door. The Christmas pyjamas he ordered had arrived, and between the cookies he had made in the kitchen with a hovering Winky, he was stumped over the next sequence of gifts. 

"I'm not wanking," he flipped his comforter open violently, revealing his clothed crotch when he noticed Malfoy narrowing his eyes at him in suspicion.

The muscle in Malfoy's cheek jumped in amusement as he waved his satchel away. Harry smiled to himself. The years of Malfoy-watching had been unbelievably handy as he tried to decipher the gestures of a waifish Malfoy. He wondered if he could ever make Malfoy happier, or at least, comfortable around him.

"I'm glad that you're back because I got a present today," Harry said, pleased when his words made Malfoy pause.

"What did you get?"

"I don't know. I've been waiting for you," Harry said as he reached to pull the present at the corner of his bed over. 

"I didn't ask you to wait," Malfoy frowned.

"Reciprocity and all," Harry waved Malfoy's disapproval away. "Also, don't pretend that you aren't interested."

"Wait!" 

Harry's hand jerked when Malfoy exclaimed suddenly.

"Have you checked it?" Malfoy demanded as he sent a series of spells to the present, ones more complicated than Hermione's. 

"You'll bloody get yourself killed one day," Malfoy grumbled as he gestured for Harry to go ahead when the tests came clean.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, heart still racing from Malfoy's prior agitation. He returned to pull at the ribbon, strangely touched by Malfoy's concern. He had checked the present the moment he had returned to his room, but it was surprising to learn that Malfoy cared. He didn't want to seem ungrateful and turn Malfoy off by telling him the truth, and privately–after experiencing it once–he quite liked the idea of Malfoy worrying about him. 

"Maybe you could teach me your detection spells too? Mine aren't as complex as yours," Harry said, looking at Malfoy as he pushed the parchment paper aside.

Malfoy only rolled his eyes in response. 

"Oh," Harry exclaimed when he unwrapped a large bag of Chocolate Frogs. 

"How plebeian," Malfoy commented as Harry turned the bag around to estimate the cost of it. "Does it have any note?" 

Harry checked the parchment paper edged with spilled ink. "Nope, it doesn't," he replied, pleased by the simplicity of his gift. It didn't indicate too much thought, and he quite liked Chocolate Frogs. It was a really good haul, in his opinion. 

"You're terribly easy to please," Malfoy commented as he summoned his clothes for his shower.

"Yep," Harry agreed with a wide smile as he tossed two Frogs onto Malfoy's bed, before levitating the rest to his schoolbag. He would give some out tomorrow and open the rest with Ron. Ron had been missing an Elphias Doge card for the longest time. 


	5. 7 December, Saturday

"Hi," Harry said as he dropped into the chair opposite Malfoy in the library.

"Fuck off, Potter," Malfoy replied without looking up as his quill continued to move across his parchment. 

Harry sighed to himself. He hadn't anticipated it to be easy, but Malfoy really made it so terribly hard to talk to him. "I shan't," Harry said as he began to unpack his stationery. 

"I'd be lonely in my own table and I don't know anyone else here." His friends had already left for Hogsmeade, and Harry had decided to beg off. He already had his next few gifts for Malfoy, and the thought of Michael Corner staring at him again challengingly while snogging Ginny made him uncomfortable.

"I'm also hoping that your work ethic will rub off me," he added for good measure, hoping that Malfoy would appreciate him putting himself down, and not move away. 

Malfoy rolled his eyes as he dipped his quill. "Don't disrupt my concentration, Potter." 

Harry grinned at Malfoy as he nodded hastily, smile widening at the dirty look that he received.

\- 

Harry's desperation to impress Malfoy with his good behaviour helped him to focus and complete his Charms essay in a sitting. Setting his textbook aside, he checked the item off the to-do list Hermione had made for him. He combed his hair back in frustration as he despaired over the remaining items. 

Neither catching up with his notes-making for Transfiguration nor studying for Potions appealed to him. Biting the inside of his mouth, he slumped in his chair as he peeked at Malfoy who was frowning while reading a book about Ancient Runes. He returned to inspect his list. He couldn't start Potions without Malfoy's help, but he was also too hungry to sit through a month's worth of notes-making without food in his belly. 

Harry was reluctant to leave on his own and break the camaraderie–however one sided–that he had forged with Malfoy, but the other boy seemed so engrossed with his book. He wanted to avoid Malfoy's temper as much as possible. 

Harry fidgeted in his seat sulkily before clearing his throat softly. Malfoy continued to read.

Harry emptied his lungs with the deepest sigh he could manage, jumping at the stinging hex on the back of his hand. He frowned at the nonchalantly raised brow. 

"Lunch?" He asked with an eye roll. 

"No," Malfoy replied primly, tucking his fringe behind his ear as he settled back down to continue with his book. 

"You can't keep skipping lunch all the time," Harry complained. "Malfoy," he called out, kicking the other's leg under the table when Malfoy didn't look up. "Malfoy, it's lunch," he repeated, laughing when a stinging hex bounced off his Protego. 

"Let's go," he insisted as he stood up anyway. "You'll be able to concentrate better afterwards. Let's go. Even if you're not hungry, it'll be a break. Let's gooooo." 

Malfoy stared straight at him for a long moment, as if trying to employ Legilimency on him. Harry smiled guilelessly as he repeated his message as loud as possible in his head. 

"Fine," Draco finally sniffed as he dusted the front of his poncey waistcoat. Even his casual wardrobe screamed old money. 

"After you," Harry beckoned as he waved a charm to secure their possessions until they returned. 

\- 

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed when he saw his second gift on Malfoy's bed. 

"What are you on," Malfoy complained as he pushed Harry away from the doorway, quickly masking his pleasant surprise as he hung up his cloak. 

"All clean," Harry announced as he dropped his bag onto his bed, gesturing for Malfoy to open the present. 

"Haven't had enough of bossing me around?"

Harry grinned shamelessly as he watched Malfoy head for his own bed. He had managed to negotiate for twice weekly Potions lessons during lunch, and their day had ended with a dinner and Harry's first remedial lesson. 

After the war, Harry had reconciled with his feelings towards Snape. The revelations from Snape's memories had shaken him, and after discussions with Hermione and Ron, they had agreed that while Snape had been a hero who had tried to protect them in the long run, he had often times been flawed, vengeful and cruel. 

The injustices he had levied against non-Slytherin students had discouraged Harry from studying Potions, and the weak foundation compounded anything else that he learnt. It had been obvious when Malfoy had quizzed him on the basics to gauge his proficiency. However, unlike Snape, while Malfoy had been frustrated, his patience did not waiver, and Harry had been immensely grateful.

"I could beg," Harry said as he pulled his dark green sweatshirt off, making an annoyed noise when his shirt refused to stay down. "What," he asked when he noticed Malfoy staring. He rearranged his crooked spectacles.

"Your hair's a mess," Malfoy said when he finally unwrapped the present, rougher and clumsier than usual. 

Harry shook his hair out immediately, slightly embarrassed at having it pointed out so politely by Malfoy. It had been almost _kind_ , and Harry felt like he had missed something, as usual. He stepped towards Malfoy's bed when he heard a noise of confusion. 

"What's it?" He asked, nervous when Malfoy continued to shuffle around the box with a frown. 

"It's so odd," Malfoy finally said when he looked up, his lips stiff with control to not laugh. 

"What is it?" Harry repeated as he rounded the bed to stand beside Malfoy. He burst into laughter when he laid eyes on the gift. "It's adorable!" He giggled as he poked at the gingerbread cookies in the box. 

He had shaped the cookies and iced them to look like Malfoy's friends and Hermione, Ron and himself, and it had turned out so well that even Hermione had cooed over them. 

"Can I have this?" Harry asked as he pointed at the widely smiling gingerbread Malfoy. "It's the funniest," he explained when Malfoy looked at him in confusion. 

"No," Malfoy shook his head sharply, then flinching as if stunned by his own vehemence. "Merlin, I don't mean that. I'll share them later, but I want to look at it a bit more. I want to show them to my friends too," he said softly as he worried at his bottom lip.

"That's reasonable," Harry said quickly, ashamed that he had requested for Malfoy's cookies, yet also deeply pleased and embarrassed that Malfoy seemed to really enjoy them. "I'm sorry for being so weird about it," he said, waving Malfoy off when he started to interrupt. 

"Did they leave a note?" He asked as he retreated to his side of the bedroom. Malfoy picked up the small slip of paper, huffing in amusement when he read it. 

"I'm supposed to be biting your head off," he said with an eye roll as he sent everything to his desk with a flick of his wand. "Don't keep your hopes up for a Draco cookie, Potter." 

Harry laughed as he slung his pyjamas over shoulder, heart skipping when Malfoy smiled at him. 


	6. 8 December, Sunday

"Let's go," Harry said, laughing when Malfoy jumped in fright at his voice. 

"Potter, fuck!" Malfoy scolded as he pressed a hand over his heart. "Where's your manners, you can't just barge in here and–" he lowered his voice into a sharp whisper when Harry shushed him. "–scare people like this! Didn't your mother–" Malfoy paused, flushing with embarrassment. 

Harry rolled his eyes. "That's original," he said drily as he waved for Malfoy to start packing up. He had given up pacing about in his room and decided to walk Malfoy back. Ron had told him to expect nothing out of his attempts of friendship, but it was so hard to remember sometimes. It was just as well that Malfoy reminded him how insensitive he could be.

"I'm sorry," Malfoy said as he fastened his satchel close. "It just came out and I didn't mean it." He fiddled with the fabric corner of his reference book, "and also, the times before this. It was mean, and I'm sorry." 

Harry gaped at Malfoy in shock. Had Malfoy apologised for his stupid self? 

Malfoy contrite dissolved when Harry only continued to stare at him. "Let's just go," he swung his bag across his shoulder. 

"No. Can't you just-" Harry complained as he grabbed his elbow. "You can't apologise and immediately expect people to respond. You need to give people time, and then some because it's _you_ doing it." 

Malfoy shook his hand off. "Now you're just being an arse."

"No, honestly! I mean, you were such a cunt previously." He jogged to catch up with Malfoy. " _But_ ," he emphasised as he looked at Malfoy while walking. "But I apologise for scaring you. And I accept your apologies." He grinned at Malfoy, knocking the side of his arm against him in amusement. 

"Go away, Potter," Malfoy intoned as he checked the heavy book out. 

"Can't," he replied, waving grandly at Ron and Hermione when the exited the library. It was nearing curfew, and he had enlisted his friends' help for their authority and safe passage. 

"Bloody hell, do you guys ever travel alone?" Malfoy complained as Ron's wand accidentally fell to the ground mid-twirl. 

"And deprive people of the excitement?" Hermione said as she handed the Marauders' Map to Harry with a tilt of her head in the direction back to their dormitories. "Let's go." 

Harry looked at Ron, acknowledging the dark smirk on his friend's face with a grim smile. It had been a while since he had let himself be consumed by this nervous energy. He led the way, scanning the map quickly, his heart racing in perverse excitement to see Walters and his gang still waiting along the corridor. 

"What's that?" Malfoy asked as he peered over Harry's shoulder. 

"A map of Hogwarts," Harry said truthfully, folding it away as Malfoy watched his hands with deep intrigue. 

They rounded the corner. "Protego!" He shouted, jinxes bouncing off his shield as he pulled Malfoy backwards.

"Expelliarmus! Petrificius totalus!" Ron yelled as he brutally stunned multiple students mercilessly while Hermione sent jelly leg jinxes at the students attempting to escape.

Harry pulled Malfoy out of the way of a particularly vicious looking purple jinx, expelling the student's wand before immobilising her. The scuffle was over as quickly as it started.

"Get them together," Hermione instructed when it was obvious that they had subdued all of the perpetrators. Harry was surprised to see a Ravenclaw prefect on the ground as they lined the seven students up. He gathered the fallen wands. 

"Let's go to the Headmistress, shall we?" Ron said with fake cheer as he levitated two students, nodding for the paler-than-usual Malfoy to handle the last. 

"Are you okay?" Harry asked quietly as the started to walk. After Malfoy's comment about his 'cronies' during their first class as Potions partners, Harry had been reminded about his map, and had taken to virtually stalk Malfoy again. Within a few days, he had noticed Walters and his rotation of buddies surrounding Malfoy and he had finally figured out the reason for Malfoy's previous limps. The knowledge that his schoolmates were bullying Malfoy set him on edge. It was the exact bigotry that had perpetuated the war.

Harry had spent most of his post-war efforts trying to bridge the understanding between the Muggleborn, Half-blood and Pureblood communities and he had returned to Hogwarts hoping that most importantly, his schoolmates would understand that the Slytherins were products of their upbringing. They had all been children, frightened for their lives. At the very end, the law had also judged Malfoy and deemed him capable of rehabilitation. Most importantly, Malfoy had changed. Who were they to mete out their supposed justice? 

Malfoy only blinked at him, still shocked by the ordeal. Harry was overcome by helplessness. He reached over to squeeze Malfoy's shoulder. 

"Inter-house unity," Ron announced at the gargoyle, quickly climbing the stone steps to the Headmistress' Office.

"What is the matter?" McGonagall said in shock as she rushed across the wide room to meet them. 

"We were with Malfoy when we walked into an ambush. Seven students tried to attack him. This is not the first time, and they have also have been bullying other Slytherins," Hermione stated as the Headmistress' eyes swept back and forth between her students in anguish. 

"There's more students. Harry has a list," Ron said as they set the attackers down gently. 

"Please, Potter," she held out a hand as she pressed her glasses higher with a trembling hand. "Please also bring Malfoy to the hospital wing. Take this in case you meet Filch," she handed him a pass. 

"It will shriek if you dawdle, and will disappear when you reach your dorm. It _cannot_ be tampered with, and is non-replicable. Filch has a validator to determine its authenticity, so _do not_ think about constructing one on your own," she said sternly when she noticed Harry inspecting the metal badge of Hogwart's crest in awe. 

Harry smiled sheepishly at the Headmistress. 

Nodding to his friends, he led Malfoy out of the room. Reaching to take Malfoy's book, they were silent until they reached the hospital wing. 

\- 

"I'm going to leave now," Harry said, pressing his nails into his palms in helplessness and frustration when Madam Promfrey tutted at his presence. 

"Okay," Malfoy replied without looking at him, curled into a foetal position in the bed.

"I'll tell your friends to visit, first thing in the morning!" He yelled as Madam Promfrey waved him away.

"Shush!" She scolded as she pulled the partitions around Malfoy's bed close. "Also, no visits allowed before seven thirty," she reminded as she led him out of the infirmary by the arm. 

"Alright, goodnight," Harry said, sighing when the door shut coldly in his face. Combing his fringe backwards in frustration, he looked at the dimly lit corridor before him. 

In the chilly air, he was suddenly aware of the possibilities available even though he was going to act on them. The night had been exciting enough, but just the feeling of it was heady. 

He reached into his sweatshirt pocket to marvel at the special pass under the dim light. Casting a magic revealing spell that Bill had taught them, he huffed at its complexity. He could identify some parts of it though, for example that was a magic signature, that was a basic ownership charm, the orange was a–he jumped when it started to whistle lowly, like a Muggle kettle on the stove. The noise quickly increased, _bloody hell_ , Harry tripped over his feet to get moving. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> McGonagall _can't_ with the Marauders.


	7. 9 Dec, Monday

Harry froze at the door of the hospital wing when five pairs of eyes turned towards him the moment he stepped in. Pansy was in Malfoy's bed, an arm around his shoulder. 

"Hello," he said nervously as he inspected Malfoy quickly, his heart twinging at Malfoy's swollen eyes. "Erm, morning," he corrected himself, smiling hopefully when Malfoy greeted him with a nod. 

He walked towards the bed, shifting his weight between his feet, hoping that the Slytherins would start talking again and ignore his presence. 

"Did I interrupt anything?" He asked Zabini, whom he privately considered to be the friendliest amongst Malfoy and his friends. 

"No, not really," Zabini replied with a wide smile as he leaned backwards in his seat. "We were just talking about how your Patronus woke Pansy up. It's a bit rude to be talking about you in your presence, so we stopped." 

"Right. Sorry," Harry ducked his head guiltily. "Figured that you guys would want to know what happened as soon as possible." He felt distinctly wrong footed as they only continued to look at him. Grasping for straws, he turned to Malfoy. 

"Are you feeling better?" He asked, biting his lip when Pansy's knee jerked. It was impossible to take back his question though, and it hung heavily between them. Harry tried to convey the sincerity he felt on his face. 

"Yes, thank you," Malfoy replied finally. Harry nodded, realising that maybe he shouldn't have come to visit Malfoy so early–but he had spent the entire night worrying and it had only felt right to check on Malfoy first thing in the morning. 

"Are you up for classes today?" He asked.

"Maybe only the afternoon ones." 

"Alright, that sounds good," Harry continued to nod. "No skipping lunch though," he pointed at Malfoy accusingly when he remembered. He mimicked Malfoy's eye roll. 

"Did you erm-" he looked around the bed, brightening when he saw the gift exchange present on the bedside table. "You haven't opened it?" 

"Well, you've only arrived just, haven't you?" 

Harry flushed as he looked at Malfoy's friends surreptitiously in embarrassment. "Well, I mean-" he tried to explain. "You don't have to open them with me, I don't mind just seeing them afterwards," he hissed desperately when Zabini, Nott and Goyle started to snicker. 

"It's okay. I just woke up anyway, we'll open it together tonight," Malfoy said in amusement, obviously taking pleasure in Harry's anxiety. "Thanks for sending it along though. I appreciate it."

Harry felt his face burn as he warred between pleasure and embarrassment. "Alright. Erm, feel better, Malfoy. I'll see you in class. Maybe," he felt distinctly out of place as he bit the insides of his cheek. He nodded at Malfoy's friends. 

"Bye," he waved at Malfoy before hightailing out of the infirmary. _Ugh, why did Malfoy's friends always have to make everything so awkward?_

\- 

"I would like to reiterate that Hogwarts has no tolerance for bullying. Please do not hesitate to inform any prefects, teachers or myself should you require any support, or have information of any happenings. The bullies will be dealt with accordingly." The Headmistress said sternly as her gaze swept across the Hall. 

Harry nodded vigorously as he looked down the Gryffindor table in warning. Ron had shared that the Headmistress was still investigating the case to gather more information. Walters had been suspended, while the other students had been put on probation for the time being. The prefect also had her badge stripped.

"On a side note, I would like to thank you for your support in our Inter-house Gift Exchange. We currently have ninety-eight per cent participation in our first round of exchange. Your prefects will be following up if you have not given your partner a gift. The second exchange will be in five days. Let's make someone happier this solstice." 

Harry clapped loudly at the end of the announcements, pushing Ron away when his friend wiggled his brows insufferably at him. He really shouldn't have told his friends why he was late. 

\- 

_'Are you going to study in the library later?'_ Harry scribbled onto a piece of torn parchment, folding it into approximate quarters before sending it across the Great Hall towards Malfoy. 

Ron whistled in amazement when the note reached its intended destination. "It's hard to obsess over a Slytherin when you're in Gryffindor," he commented with a shake of his head as he attempted to finish his apple strudel. 

Harry refused to rise to the bait, settling instead for a straightforward death glare. Privately, it really was difficult given the distance between the respective tables, but Malfoy's distinctive colouring had always made things easier. Still, it wasn't something that he would tell Ron, especially when it would be used against him one day.

"Well, we can sit with the Slytherins tomorrow," Hermione said. "Nott did a really good presentation during Arithmancy today," she explained with a raised brow when both of her friends stared at her in shock. 

"But Malfoy's friends are so weird!" Harry complained just as an origami crane settled gracefully in front of him. He looked up only to see the Malfoy chatting with one of the younger Slytherins. 

"Not only his friends. Malfoy's weird too," Ron snickered when he saw the curt reply with zero explanation.

Harry reflexively opened his mouth to protest, only to realise that it was actually true. He nodded tiredly in agreement while scrounging for another paper. "They'll probably just stare at us while we try to talk to them." 

"Well, you can't make friends through _talking_ in Hogwarts. You'll need a troll attack or something," Hermione said as she took a casual sip of her pumpkin juice.

Both Harry and Ron jumped, Harry drawing a line across the rude note he was crafting for Malfoy. Hermione had made that joke a few times throughout the years, but the dryness of her delivery had always ensured that it landed well. 

"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron laughed, eyes watering as he tried to clear the morsel that had went into the wrong tube. Harry grinned at his friends, thankful for the ridiculousness in their lives. 

"Maybe murderous teachers is the common factor. It'll be a lot easier to pull off," Harry said, crumpling the note in his fist before he lobbed it vehemently at Malfoy. He smirked when it thwacked against Malfoy's fat head.

"Sorry, but we're running a bit low on that this year. Maybe next year?" Ron joked as he squeezed Hermione's hand from across the table. Harry averted his eyes politely when they started to look at each other affectionately.

"Bloody hell, that fucking arsehole!" Harry swore when Malfoy swung his bag onto his shoulder as he stood without replying.

Hermione made a sharp noise of disapproval, immediately bursting into laughter when a ball of paper collided sharply against Harry's forehead. He bared his teeth threateningly reflexively at Malfoy who was already leaving the Hall his friends. 

"We'll be sitting with the Slytherins tomorrow." Hermione decided. 

Harry nodded distractedly as he read the crumpled note. 

_'With Pansy. Back early. Fuck off.'_


	8. 11 Dec, Wednesday

"Spin the bottle time!" Seamus yelled, crossing his legs as he settled at the edge of the common room. 

"That's too boring," Susan Bones complained even as she sat down with her Hufflepuff friends. 

"Think about the Ravenclaws, please," Parkinson replied as she tugged Nott and Malfoy to join. 

Harry grinned as Malfoy complied sulkily, still pouting about being forced to put on the ugly jumper Harry had gifted him. 

Harry had given Malfoy two presents in two days, and they had opened them together when he had returned from the infirmary. The Christmas themed pyjamas set had been better received than the _Jingle my Bells for a White Christmas_ jumper which Harry had gleefully customised from the Wheezes' Christmas catalogue.

He had then let slip during dinner with the Slytherins that Malfoy had received the ugliest jumper he had ever seen, and everything had fallen into place afterwards. With an ugly sweater in compliance with the dress code, Draco no longer had any reason to skip the Eighth Year's Mid-week Party. Organised by the Gryffindors, it was the first party of the year, and almost all of the returning eighth years had turned up.

Harry grinned when Malfoy slapped Blaise's hand as he reached over to pull the strings attached to the bells on his jumper. 

"Malfoy, you don't want to give us a white Christmas?" He called out from across the room, nearly falling over in laughter when Malfoy only scowled harder at him. He was slightly tipsy already from the alcohol Seamus had purchased from the collected funds, and everything was hilarious to him.

"Apparently not, unless you're the one jingling it," Zabini commented, taking advantage of Malfoy's affrontment to tug at the strings violently. The both of them collapsed into a tussle as Malfoy lunged for Zabini.

"My money's on Zabini," Ron yelled as he got onto his feet. 

"Not when Malfoy's the one giving us a white Christmas!" Terry Boot said while the other eight years started to pick sides. 

Parkinson stood up with a loud sigh. "Bloody fucks!" She yelled as she wrenched the both of them apart forcefully. 

"You, go sit with Potter so Blaise can't touch you. You, sit on your bloody hands because you're a fucking wanker. Bloody start already before I blackout from this stupidity," she kicked her friends lightly with her foot as she helped herself to Firewhiskey straight from the bottle. 

"Get lost!" She snapped at Malfoy when he only gaped at her. Harry scrambled to make space for a sulky and tousled Malfoy. 

"Thank you, Parkinson," Hermione said coolly as she gestured at everyone to take a seat. She placed the bottle in the middle of the circle. "No forfeits, no bullying, no mentions about the war, and please be reasonable in your truth or dares. Most importantly, everything said or done here stays here. Neville, Lisa and I will be the judge of whether the questions are reasonable. Parkinson will start, since she gets things done." 

Harry snorted to himself at Hermione's gall in making herself one of the judges. 

"What's so funny?" Malfoy asked him with a frown. "Pansy gets things done." 

"Erm, yes, of course," Harry said hurriedly. "Alcohol?" He offered, smiling widely when Malfoy narrowed his eyes at him but accepted it nonetheless. 

Harry startled at the smatter of applause and calls of his name. 

"Truth or dare, Potter?" Parkinson asked with a smirk. 

Harry puffed his cheeks as he weighed his options. He worried about his coordination if he had to get up, but then again, it would probably worsen throughout the night. However, he _really_ didn't feel like getting up. "Erm, truth," he said. 

Harry leaned backwards reflexively when Parkinson's grin widened. "So Potter, why did you break up with the she-Weasley?" 

"Erm," his eyes jumped from Neville to Lisa Turpin, who was one of Hermione's favourite prefects. He leaned forward to check on Hermione, slumping when Hermione only shook her head helplessly. "Erm, I'm gay, so," he peeked at his roommate guiltily, worried that Malfoy would be disapproving or worse, disgusted. He knew that the wizarding community was accepting of homosexuality, but it was viewed as an inconvenience to Purebloods in their obsession of lineages. He was thankful that Malfoy's expression didn't seem to change. 

"Were Cho and Weasley your beards?" Parkinson pressed. 

"You don't have to answer this as it counts as another question," Lisa said. Harry looked at the Ravenclaw thankfully. 

After the war when he had spent more time with Ginny, he had started to question his disinterest in taking things further. It was then that he had discovered that he preferred males to females. He was grateful that Ginny had taken it in stride, and that his friends and family were supportive. The realisation did not affect him much either–he would occasionally appreciate certain features, or gestures, and in the rare moments he would marvel at the subtlety of his observations, understanding why his sexuality had eluded him for years. Otherwise, the moments would slip away as quickly as it came. 

"Anyway, please don't mention it to anyone else," he said to the room, trying his best to regard everyone for emphasis. He was grateful when they nodded. Spinning the bottle with a wave of his wand, it landed on the outspoken Ravenclaw Mandy Brocklehurst. 

"Truth or dare?" 

"Dare," she said proudly as the circle broke into applause. Harry nodded in appreciation. 

"Erm, I dare you to hold the hand of the most attractive person in this room," he motioned for the room to quieten. "For the next ten rounds of the game," he finished, to rowdy cheers.

Harry slapped his thigh in laughter when Brocklehurst gamely got onto her knees and crawled towards Padma who was seating two seats away from her. Padma was blushing as she reached for Brocklehurst's hand. 

"She's soo sexy," Brocklehurst slurred as she wedged herself clumsily beside Padma, "and smart." Padma pressed her face into Brocklehurst's neck in embarrassment when Seamus led a rowdy toast to them. 

The dares progressively got raunchier as everyone started to get more intoxicated. Malfoy screeched, falling into laughter in his lap when Parkinson was dared to fondle Hermione's breasts. 

Harry placed a hand on Malfoy's shoulder to hold him steady, overcome by ridiculousness as Malfoy alternated between peeking at the happenings and hiding his face in Harry's knee all the while giggling to himself. 

"Pansy used to be attracted to Hermione," Malfoy pulled him down to whisper messily into his ear as Pansy bowed to her appreciative audience.

"No way!" Harry exclaimed as he tried his best to not fall onto Ron. Inebriated, Malfoy was not only chatty and more dramatic, but also terribly floppy. 

Malfoy nodded earnestly. "Pansy has a thing for intelligence," he explained as he trailed off in laughter. 

"It's funny how she showed it," Harry said as he thought about the cruel comments Parkinson had made about Hermione previously. 

Malfoy sat up sharply. There was a deep frown in his face. "It's a Pureblood and Slytherin thing. Feelings are hard," he said as he held Harry's forearm in a tight grip. 

Harry was frightened by Malfoy's forcefulness. He scanned Malfoy's face in confusion while the other continued to stare straight at him. For no particular reason, the room suddenly felt too crowded and oppressive and he needed to escape.

"Erm," he said, trying to free his hand. 

Malfoy suddenly broke out into a grin. "It's complete rubbish," he said, finishing his whiskey at a single go. 

"Draco, truth or dare?" Pansy called out in a simpering voice. 

Malfoy's head shot up sharply. All private conversations ceased, the room falling silent as Malfoy narrowed his eyes at the bottle pointing at him, then his friend. "Truth," he said after a prolonged staring match. Everyone leaned in in anticipation. 

Apart from the small smile on Parkinson's face, she seemed almost disinterested as she basked in the attention of everyone. In contrast, Malfoy was completely wound up as he twisted his fingers repeatedly. It was evidence of the Slytherins' insanity, Harry thought privately. To fear that your friend would betray your confidence for entertainment.

"Pansy," both Malfoy and Nott said at the same time, the former pleadingly while the latter in warning.

Parkinson rolled her eyes as she blew at her fingernails. "What did your Father say the last time he saw you?" 

Malfoy's shoulders loosened as he exhaled in relief. Harry experienced a similar gratitude when the familiar weight of Malfoy against his side returned. 

"Is this about the war?" Hannah asked. 

"No," Parkinson replied immediately. 

"Not really. It depends on what's said," Nott corrected. He refilled his cup, staunchly refusing to look up. 

"I'll allow it," Lisa said with a shrug. "It's already pretty late and this can be our last round. It's an ode to why we're all here anyway," she said, waving away the applause with an eye roll. 

"I agree. Nothing too graphic though," Neville warned. Hermione supported the judgement.

"My Father alluded that I led to his loss, and reminded me to marry a Pureblood girl–" Malfoy said flatly as if he was nothing of great concern "–regardless of my sexual proclivities." 

"Sexual proclivities?" Harry repeated in confusion. He was simply too smashed to spend time figuring out Malfoy's poncey vocabulary. 

"He's gay, Potter," Parkinson announced from across the room.

"Alright, thanks for attending and complying with the dress code. Look forward to the next eighth year party!" Seamus interrupted as he clapped his hands loudly. 

"Please hydrate before turning in!" Hermione called out as the crowd began to disperse. 

Disarmed by the series of revelations, Harry was confused by how quickly the party had ended and he felt unmoored by the loss of Malfoy on his side. 

"Mate, let's go," Ron kicked his foot as he held a hand out. Harry took it gratefully, laughing when he almost tripped over himself. He looked around the room. Malfoy and his friends were still having an intense conversation at the couches while the Hufflepuffs had commandeered the leftover drinks in their small circle. 

"Erm, did you–" Harry said as he walked down the corridor with Ron, "–you know, about Malfoy?" 

"A bit. I mean, you can sort of tell, and it fits, you know?" Ron said as he stopped outside his own room. 

Harry's brows creased at the response. He really didn't know. 

"Look, I think that you should sleep. You drank quite a bit today–" he held up a hand when Harry tried to protest, "–we'll talk tomorrow, alright?" He searched Harry's eyes for his response, nodding in satisfaction at what he apparently saw. 

"Don't think about it too much. And drink up before you sleep!" Ron called out when Harry lumbered off huffily. Everybody was brushing him off today and it was frustrating, if not hurtful. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the bottle is not non-tamperable.


	9. 12 December, Thursday

Harry was restless the next day, and it showed. He was nervous around Malfoy, yet for some reason he couldn't stop sneaking glances at him. 

He had spent breakfast feigning a headache as he mulled over Lucius' last words to Malfoy. Not only did it imply that Lucius was unrepentant, he was also misguided to attribute the Death Eaters' loss entirely to his son. Surely a regiment whose success hinged upon a single lackey would be doomed to fail. Besides, Voldemort really should have placed more weight on the backing from Harry's friends and the sheer amount of dumb luck he had. 

Nonetheless, it was undeniable that Malfoy had been absolute rubbish at being a Death Eater. Despite Lucius' expectations, his villainous skills had never developed beyond insults, pranks, telltales and physical attacks. Likewise, Neville had told him that Malfoy had run interference by sending students to detention with Filch and playing up the humiliation of the tasks to satisfy the Carrows. 

The morning had left Harry overcome with sympathy towards Malfoy again. If Malfoy had failed Lucius on his expectations as a successful Death Eater, would he attempt to redeem himself by settling with a Pureblood wife? Most importantly, how could Ron tell that Malfoy looked gay? 

Harry scribbled down his reproach before tossing it at Ron surreptitiously. Ron really shouldn't typecast Malfoy simply because of his poncey hair and dress sense when Harry also had the similar _sexual proclivities_ but none of the proper grooming. _This was basic, honestly_ _–_ Harry really couldn't believe the gall of Ron.

He scrambled to hand Malfoy the shredded shrivelfig when he received a glare. 

"It hasn't turned brown yet," Malfoy raised a judgemental eyebrow at him. "You could really do to pay some attention if you want to learn anything at all in this lifetime." 

Harry turned away with flaming cheeks as he reread the instructions for want of something to do. Why was it so hard to talk to Malfoy all of a sudden? 

"Go wash the equipment, Potter," Malfoy ordered impatiently. "You're an absolute nightmare today," he complained. 

Harry gathered everything quickly, heading for the basins. He needed some space from Malfoy, even though he couldn't stop thinking about him. 

"Are you really sure that you'll be able to sit through a Potions lesson again?" Malfoy asked him later when they were packing up. "I won't go easy on you, you know? I'll need your full attention when we begin." 

Harry nodded and tried his best to look as earnest as possible. He wondered if he could schedule a chat with Malfoy beforehand just to satisfy his curiosity. 

Malfoy groaned sharply when he noticed Harry's distraction. "Get yourself together, Potter. We'll chat again during dinner." 

\- 

"I just think that you're mad because I guessed something about Malfoy before you did," Ron repeated as he helped himself to more food. "In fact, I think that you miss a lot about Malfoy for someone so obsessed about him." 

"Ronald," Hermione warned without looking up from the study notes she was making for the next month's Transfiguration curriculum. 

"What, it's right in front of him!" 

"Ronald!" She slammed her quill down to glare sharply at her boyfriend. Harry groaned at the wordless conversation they were having _again_. 

"Well, you shouldn't even be saying that someone is gay just because they stare at a few arses or tits," Harry said loudly to regain their attention, taking full advantage of the Muffliato they had set up at the start of lunch. 

"Like I've said, you were obsessed–" Ron broke off with an appreciative moan at the strawberry trifle, "–with Cedric and Malfoy!"

"Well, that's conflating antagonism and awe with stunted emotions!" He complained as he reached for the trifle himself. 

"Well, am I wrong?" Ron looked at him heavily. Harry's brows creased in frustration. He was sick of the censorship Hermione had imposed on Ron. Girlfriends were a pain, and he was thankful that he was gay. 

"Well–" Harry began heatedly.

"Shut up! Shut up! This is going no where! I hereby ban all discussions about the discovery of Malfoy's sexuality and taunts about repressed emotions! Harry will figure things out when he figure things out! Pinkies _!_ " Hermione commanded, glaring at Harry when he failed to comply. "I am doing this for your sanity, Harry," she said menacingly through clenched teeth. 

Harry groused as he interlocked their smallest fingers reluctantly. Hermione cast the Promise spell grimly. She had developed it to maintain verbal agreements and it played too well into all of their Gryffindor tendencies to break it. The spell would also fill the person with despair whenever they were going to break the promise, and it was needless to say that Harry was disproportionately affected. The number of rules enacted in his disfavour was inconveniencing his existence.

"Thank you very much for the peace," Hermione said as she returned to her textbook. 

"Mate, did you read the chapter for Charms?" Ron asked after a while. 

Harry scoffed. "Of course not," he said, laughing with Ron as Hermione tutted at them disapprovingly. 

\- 

"So you're probably going to get your second present today," Malfoy said suddenly as they made their way through the largely empty corridors. 

"Second present?" Harry repeated in confusion, looking up from his shoes. Harry had gathered all of his willpower to sit through Potions with Malfoy, and now that it was over, he was back to obsessing about Malfoy's familial obligations post-war. 

"Yes, your exchange present," Malfoy huffed. 

"Oh, right. They're a laugh," Harry agreed. "Do you think that you'll get anything today?" He asked, jogging a bit to catch up with Malfoy. _Why was the git walking so fast all of a sudden?_

"No," Malfoy snapped, voice ripe with annoyance. He suddenly whipped around, causing Harry to stumble over his feet to avoid colliding into him. 

"What's wrong with you today, Potter? Why do you keep gaping at me? What do you want?" He demanded. 

"Erm," Harry was shocked by the confrontation. He fidgeted nervously, his eyes darting between a furious Malfoy and the corridor that they could have been walking down together. 

"Just spit it out, Potter. Is it about my father? Or are you the only person allowed to be gay?"

Harry was appalled by the insinuation. "What? Merlin, no! I was surprised but no!" 

"So what is it?" Malfoy leaning in now, using his slight height advantage to intimidate Harry. 

"I just, erm–" his eyes settled above Malfoy's shoulder instead, "I was just wondering if you were going to erm, follow your dad's instructions and marry a Pureblood witch." Harry said haltingly. He peeked at Malfoy when the other boy huffed in laughter. 

Malfoy continued to chuckle as he combed his long fringe backwards. Harry's stomach twisted in hurt at Malfoy's callous response. _What was so funny?_ He hitched his bag higher as he made to leave. 

"No, Potter. Wait," Malfoy sobered quickly as he caught him by the arm. "Sorry, I just thought that you were thinking too highly of me." 

Harry's brows creased in confusion. 

Malfoy raised his hands as if presenting himself. "Who would be interested in a disgraced Death Eater? The Malfoy name has been tarnished even within Purebloods. I'll most likely be a dirty secret, or a notch on people's bed posts," he said with a deprecating smile.

"That's not true," Harry said hotly, unthinkingly clenching his fists in frustration. "You deserve more than that! You'll be able to find someone who would love you!" 

"Oh come off it, Potter," Malfoy rolled his eyes as he started to walk away. "Not to ruin your fun, but you should probably spend your energy worrying about yourself. Granger has Weasley and vice versa, but you'll only have sick fucks stuffed with stories of your heroic acts, or nutters like Lockhart trying to be in your Potter halo." 

Harry huffed. "Ta, Malfoy. You ruined my fun anyway. But you really should see the sort of post I get back home," he made a face at the memory of it. "Why can't everyone be like you?" He bumped his shoulder against Malfoy's in amusement, laughing when Malfoy pushed him away exasperatedly. 

"I'm one of a kind, Potter," he said as he threw his hair over his shoulder, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "But really, I grew up with Harry Potter stories and I wanted to be your friend so badly until I realised that you were an entitled piece of shit that had everything going his way. It's lonely being the only Potter's ego exterminator or something." 

"That's PEE! You're piss, Malfoy," Harry stumbled as he doubled over, laughing. 

"Very funny, Potter. I'll piss on you for that," Malfoy threatened while shaking in amusement. "Piss on Potter," he said, which nearly made Harry fall over in amusement.

They stumbled back to their dorm in lousy alliterations and giggles. 

\- 

"Potter's precious present!" Malfoy exclaimed the moment he threw the door open. 

"Is it really there?" Harry yelled as he tried to peer over Malfoy. "It is!" He gasped, yelping when Malfoy grabbed him by the back of his collar. 

"Hold up, you absolute tosser," Malfoy complained as he checked the gift for curses. 

"Thanks," Harry tore the wrapper off hurriedly when it was clear. Honestly, couldn't he had gotten a more enthusiastic gift partner like himself? It would be nice to get gifts more often. 

"I'll need a life-saving boyfriend like you in future," he joked, making a sharp noise in his throat when he saw his present. 

"What is it," Malfoy asked as he pulled his sweater off. "What is it?" He repeated impatiently, walking over when Harry continued to blink at his present in shock. 

"No, no, no," Harry was red in the face as he quickly crumpled it, weaving around Malfoy's hands. 

"What is it, you nut job!" Malfoy complained as he tried to wrestle the present out of Harry's hands. 

"Nooooo," Harry squirmed, elbowing Malfoy sharply in the abdomen as he tried to shove the present into the drawer of his bedside table. 

"Potter, you bloody fuck–Expelliarmus!" Malfoy caught the package easily. "Merlin's pants!" Exasperation gave way to shock when he saw the familiar label on the bottles. 

"Give it back," Harry groused as he snatched the present back from slack hands. 

"It's not so bad," Malfoy said after a while when Harry had chucked it out of sight. "It's useful at least. Actually, it's kind of thoughtful." 

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Harry slapped his uniform onto his bed. 

"Does it have a note?" 

Harry raised his brows at the suggestion. "Finally a decent idea from you," he lowered the drawer's wards and pulled the wrapper out without revealing any of its contents. 

"It says _'Sorry for forgetting to give you your presents'_ ," he read aloud with a laugh. 

Malfoy huffed in amusement. "You really should date this boy. He'd piss on you any day." 

"Piss off, Malfoy," Harry retorted as he sent the wrapper to his desk for evidence. 

"Honestly, another person who doesn't think that galleons fall from your arse? They're automatically a friend of mine," Malfoy said as he gathered his toiletries. 

Reaching into the drawer quickly to grab one of the gifted bottles, he lobbed it at Malfoy's head, scowling when Malfoy snatched it out of the air without looking up. 

"You're a wanker," he complained as he stood up. 

"No, that's you apparently," Malfoy replied smoothly with a grin. 

Harry huffed as he returned the offending present into his drawer. Why did his partner have to give him lube? He would have a _proper discussion_ with them about propriety when the gifters were revealed. Most importantly, he would not share his new lube with Malfoy. Let him beg for forgiveness when he was struggling with the fiddly _Lubrico_ charm.


	10. 14 December, Saturday

"Well, I'd vote to keep the next party on Wednesday. Not only is it disruptive, it's also incredibly chaotic, which automatically means that it'll have my support," Parkinson said over her champagne to the resounding support of the Hufflepuffs and one Seamus Finnegan.

Most of the eighth years had congregated at Three Broomsticks after a spot of shopping, and Parkinson had gamely volunteered the Slytherins to organise the next party. Hermione pursed her lips disapprovingly at the debauchery of her peers. 

"You guys are not going to force us to drink your poncey drinks, are you?" Harry asked Malfoy as he cupped his hands around his steaming mug of mulled wine, relishing in its warmth. Harry was reacting poorly to the winter this year and would wear multiple layers even indoors.

"You just have poor taste, Potter," Malfoy replied, wrinkling his nose at Harry's drink. 

"Potter's pitiful palette," Harry joked, smacking his lips noisily to annoy Malfoy when he took another sip of his drink. Malfoy was really one to talk, pretentiously drinking his elf-made whiskey neat as if it didn't strip the lining of his throat. 

"Draco's delicious drink," Malfoy replied as he raised his glass for a toast. 

"To Harry's hot and hearty beverage," he clinked their glasses together. 

"That's cheating. You're supposed to make alliterations with the noun," Malfoy complained after rolling and then swallowing his whiskey. 

"No, you're not. There were never any rules." 

"Yes, there were. I like rules so I would have set them up," Malfoy said, swiping his fringe backwards huffily before crossing his arms in a sulk.

"Draco," Goyle called, nodding at Parkinson, "stop flirting. You're being tasked." 

"I'm not flirting!" Malfoy flailed, grabbing onto the table when he nearly fell off his high stool. Harry steadied him by the arm. "Thanks," he mumbled with flushed cheeks before glaring at his friends. 

Harry smiled as he felt the warm line of Malfoy against his side. The seating was cramped and he still felt a little cold; but amidst the cacophony of people talking over each other and the uncomfortable press of shrunken gifts against his arse, he was overcome with the joy of having survived the war to revel in the company of friends–both old and new.

-

"Potter, a present!" Malfoy exclaimed, as he hit Harry's arm repeatedly, " _un_ present _pour Potter_ ," he said, giggling to himself as he hung his coat up. 

"Oh," he checked the present before tearing it open without removing his outerwear. "Bloody buggering–" Harry clapped it close immediately. 

"What did you get now?" Malfoy scrambled over with poorly disguised excitement. "Come on, give it to Draco," he said as he tugged on the bundle. 

Harry groaned at the woe that was his life. Clutching onto the present, he laid over it on his bed in defeat. 

"Potter will you cease with this nonsense!" Draco yelled as he tried to roll him over. "Hand it over this instant!"

"No," Harry mumbled, wondering if he should vanish the gift entirely. Malfoy would murder him, but it would be worth forgoing the humiliation of sharing what he had gotten. 

"Surely it can't be that bad," Malfoy said as he crossed his arms. "Is it a cock ring? A vibrator? No–you can't get a good vibrator with three galleons. A dildo then. No?" He sounded terribly disappointed at the prospect. 

Harry was far too tipsy to properly consider the reason for his body's response to Malfoy's saying those dirty words. Nonetheless, he was conscious enough to worry about Malfoy noticing his half-hard cock. "It's a lads skin mag," he said reluctantly. 

"What! No way!" Malfoy said as he shoved his hands under Harry greedily. 

"Oi, watch it, will you?" Harry yelled as he flailed around to avoid being groped.

"It's _Broomstick_ ," Malfoy said in awe as he pulled the publication out of the wrapper. He fell onto Harry's bed almost distractedly, eyes following the trail of water running down the cover model's sculpted chest. The black haired model ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he brushed his left nipple. Malfoy's hand was trembling as he flipped it open. "Oh," he said breathlessly at the picture of two men kissing hungrily on a bed.

Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from the flush on Malfoy's high cheekbones. His eyes were hesitant yet sharp and steady, as if he was cataloguing every detail in the pictures before him. Harry understood what Malfoy was experiencing; he had found Dudley's skin mag over the summer in the second year, and the memory was still branded in his mind–he had been frightened, awashed with uncomfortable arousal while intoxicated with burning curiosity and deviant excitement. It was the forbidden fruit that the pastor had talked about in school, and his palms were sweating, his stomach twisting as his loins clenched. He would fish for the magazine a few more times afterwards, simply for the mere experience of seeing it, of what he knew was wrong and debauched. 

"Erm, do you want it?" He asked quietly. Malfoy jumped as if he had just remembered his presence. 

"No!" He yelled, tossing the magazine onto Harry as he shot up quickly. Malfoy's eyes were dark with arousal, the greys of his eyes completely consumed by his pupils when he looked away.

"Seamus has a ton of these that he leaves lying around. I used to lift some from him," Harry said as he flipped open to a random page, pausing at the picture of a man nosing at the length of a thick flaccid cock hungrily, his eyes fluttering as if intoxicated by his submission. Lifting the length on his face, he slides the cock into his mouth, lavishing in the weight of it on his tongue before replaying immediately. The both of them were entranced. 

"I've never– the Slytherins aren't– I'm very noticeable," Malfoy mumbled when he finally tore his eyes away. Harry nodded in understanding. Lucius would have disowned his son immediately if the news of his son's purchases spread. 

"Well, you can borrow it," Harry folded the magazine as he passed it to Malfoy. He busied himself with the packaging to not embarrass Malfoy. "Merlin's tits," he breathed when he read the slip of paper in the packaging, "it's an annual subscription to _Broomsticks_." 

Malfoy peered at the receipt in shock. "How is this three galleons?" He hummed in gratitude when Harry handed it to him. "Oh–" he said in intrigue when he noticed the note on the top right corner, "it's a reprint of the purchase receipt, which only costs a nominal sum. It's ingenious, really. Ravenclaw? No, definitely Slytherin. But who?" He mumbled to himself as he raised the paper against the light with a frown. 

"Why not a Gryffindor?" 

Malfoy scoffed. "I'm sorry, but this requires too much cunning or information about–oh. _Oh_ ," he broke off as he started to pace about the room while mumbling under his breath. He made a beeline for Harry's old wrappers before laughing in a sharp huff. 

"I have miscalculated; I have underestimated!" He threw his hands into the air as he stalked back to his bed and gathered his toiletries and pyjamas with a sharp flick of his wand. 

"Are you coming?" He asked Harry pointedly when he had flung the door open. 

"Yes," Harry snapped his mouth shut as he scrambled to prepare for the showers. For a moment there, Harry had been frightened by the similarity of Malfoy's frenetic energy with Hermione's. After years of domestication, Harry had learnt better than to ask what had been uncovered. 

Everything would surely be revealed in due course. 


	11. 15 December, Sunday

Harry swung his legs from his perch on Malfoy's desk. Helping himself to another mouth of treacle tart, he watched Malfoy sort his parchment papers. He cut another bit and held it out for Malfoy. 

"Hermione's a week ahead of you for charms," he pointed out helpfully as he read Malfoy's to-do list in his organiser. 

Malfoy's scowled at him. "Yes, but Granger is a beast, and I have embraced that." 

Harry nodded approvingly at Malfoy's resignation. He had learnt over the years that some things simply couldn't be helped. For example, it was ridiculous to be six weeks ahead of curriculum only to have a peer surpassing you in swottiness anyway. 

He spooned another serving for Malfoy in wordless comfort. Dinner had been rushed under Malfoy's strict studying schedule, and Harry had privately shed a tear in gratitude when he had unwrapped the treacle tart on his bed. 

Between the lack of a dessert, Malfoy's rapid fire quizzing and his insistence that Harry showered first, Harry felt like he had truly deserved the entire thing to himself. Nonetheless, because Harry had a kind heart, he had decided to share it with Malfoy while impatiently waiting for him to unwrap his own present. 

"I'll always reign in Arithmancy and Potions though," Malfoy said as he began to draw up his to-do list for the next day. 

Harry hummed in agreement as he savoured the sweetness of his own gift. He had sat through similar rants with Hermione to know what was expected of him.

"I should work on Charms tomorrow–" Malfoy mumbled to himself with, automatically opening his mouth when Harry's spoon came, "–no I can't keep trying to catch up with Granger," he shook his head vehemently. 

"How about Defense?" 

Malfoy blinked at him. "Alright, that's decent," he scribbled on his book with a flourish before leaning back to review the list. "That's acceptable," he shut the book proudly. 

"You forgot your duties regarding the party," Harry stated as he fed Malfoy another bite. "You have a meeting at Zabini and Goyle's at ten thirty." 

"Bollocks. _Ten thirty_? That's awfully indecent," he complained as he opened his book again. "Bloody Pansy," he groused as he wrote _'Planning for Second Eighth Year Party - nine thirty at Zabini and Goyle's'_ instead. 

"I'll negotiate for a better time," Malfoy said when he noticed Harry's raised brow. Harry laughed in comprehension. His sleep schedule had improved significantly since rooming with Malfoy who would be asleep by ten thirty, and awake at seven thirty. 

"Finish it," Malfoy nodded at the last morsel of tart before returning to reorganise his day. 

Harry cleaned his teeth when he was done. "Teeth," he instructed as he rested his hand on Malfoy's arm. 

"Just drop that Potions reading," he advised when Malfoy continued to look stumped after Harry had done his teeth. 

"One does not _just_ drop Potions reading," Malfoy stated even while moving the item to the next day. He returned the book to his bag.

"Finally," Harry said, his voice thick with relief as he hopped off Malfoy's desk. "We could have done this an hour ago but you had to be an arse about it." 

Malfoy slowly lifted the tape from the wrapping paper as he sat on the edge of his bed. His brows raised when a mound of hair accessories fell out together with a note that Harry had carefully cut–neat perpendicular lines and all–to throw Malfoy's scent off. 

"What's that?" Harry asked as he got up from his bed. "Is your hair even long enough?" He pretended to ask, as if he hadn't noticed Malfoy constantly pushing his hair back the past few weeks. It was currently slightly past his shoulders. 

"Are pastels your thing?" He held a bundle of ribbons against Malfoy's head with a frown. He had written to request for a catalogue from the Hogsmeade shop Lavender and Parvati used to talk about all the time, finally understanding the appeal of the establishment when he learnt about the self-tying and anti-loosening charms in their hair accessories. 

Deciding what to purchase had taken Harry much longer. Malfoy's colouring was too drastic for any suitable reference, and he personally felt disinclined towards the traditional dark blues and blacks that wizarding men preferred. After two days of deliberation, Harry had ended up purchasing more than he had expected, with softer colours dominating the selection. He desperately hoped that Malfoy wouldn't mind deviating from wizarding tradition just a bit for once. 

"I don't know," Malfoy said as he frowned at his gift. "Pansy has been mentioning about haircuts though," he said as he ran a hand through his hair, "but it's really quite thoughtful." He picked up the note to read it. 

"Apparently hair ties disappear all the time," he laughed as he gestured at the mass of accessories on his bed. "They obviously don't know how fastidious I am." 

He scooted inwards as he gestured for Harry to sit. Pulling a pale pink ribbon from the bundle Harry had set down, he frowned at the instructions. "Goodness, they're anti-loosening. That's nice," he slid the ribbon into his mouth as he gathered his hair in a ponytail. He wrapped the ribbon around with one hand when it was done. 

"How is it?" He asked as he turned his head back and forth for inspection. 

Harry swallowed nervously. He had never noticed the pale column of Malfoy's neck, and it looked strangely vulnerable after being covered for so long. There was also a soft tuft of hair that Malfoy had missed at the bottom of his scalp. Harry thought that Malfoy looked different with his hair up–prettier than usual–and the revelation made him feel funny and itchy. The pink didn't help much either, making Malfoy look more approachable when he was actually a prickly bastard. 

"I like it," he said stupidly, immediately wincing at the amusement he received. "I mean, you look good."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at him. He cast a suspicious look at Harry's mop of hair before transfiguring the gift wrapper to a mirror. "It's not too bad," he said in surprise, pouting when he noticed the loose strand of hair. 

"It's a family tradition for the head of the house to wear their hair long–" Malfoy said as he undid the transfiguration of the mirror, "but I'll probably never grow my hair longer than this. I don't want to look like how Father used to."

"Fuck tradition," Harry said quietly. 

"Indeed," Malfoy agreed evenly. "I guess that pastel _does_ suit me then." 

Harry nodded quickly, relieved by the reception of his present. Privately, he thought that many things suited Malfoy. 


	12. 16 December, Monday

Sitting through the Headmistress' reminder of the upcoming reveals for the gift exchange, Harry found himself worrying about Malfoy's response to the discovery that Harry was his gift partner. They had gotten closer after the incident with Walters, but what if Malfoy got mad about how Harry had watched him open all of his presents? It was undeniably creepy, but Ron had been right to say that Harry had always been uncomfortably obsessed about Malfoy. There really was no way to deny anything. He pressed the back of his palms hands to his eyes as he groaned to himself. 

"Please pardon Potter's insanity," Malfoy excused when their friends looked at Harry in concern. 

"Please pardon Potter's performance," Harry mumbled when they got up to leave for their classes. Most of the Eighth Years had decided to seat at the Ravenclaw table that morning and it was hard to complain to Hermione and Ron about his issues. 

"Are you okay?" Malfoy bumped against him lightly as they walked out of the Great Hall. 

"Yeah, erm, I was worrying about having the whole Harry Potter is your gifter conversation," he said, knowing better than to lie. He had embraced the fact that he was _'too Gryffindor'_ (Malfoy's words) to withstand Malfoy's interrogation or cold shoulder when he wanted to know something. 

Malfoy's brows creased in consideration. "Yeah, that's pretty awful. I hope that they're not too big a fan of Harry Potter," he pat Harry's shoulder comfortingly. Harry's stomach only sank further. The problem was that his giftee–Malfoy himself–wasn't too big a fan of Harry Potter in the first place.

"But honestly, if it's any comfort, can you imagine having the ' _hello your gifter is an ex Death Eater'_ conversation?" 

Harry winced in commiseration. "Did you wrong them too badly previously?" 

Malfoy shrugged as they hopped onto the moving staircase. "How bad is bad?" 

Harry shook his head in sympathy. "Honestly, you've already tried your best. Just make sure that the last is really good. If they end up being an arse anyway, at least they'll feel guilty afterwards." 

"That's decent advice," Malfoy nodded. "You should probably do the reverse. Give them such a terrible present that they'll actually curse your name forever," he laughed as he pretended to shake his fist at Harry. 

Harry tried his best to muster enough amusement. His stomach started to churn again. Everything was an absolute disaster. 

\- 

"It's not that bad," Hermione said that night after Harry explained his situation. 

"It is!" Harry insisted. "I'm an absolute creep and there's no salvaging this." 

Hermione huffed loudly. "Well, I think that you're being unnecessarily dramatic about this. You can play up the nervousness and wanting to do something nice for him. Be properly earnest about it too." 

"Yeah, Draco would absolutely lap that up," Ron agreed. 

"But what if he doesn't? You know how unpredictable he is," Harry stared blankly into the flames in worry. 

"You can't control that, mate. Focusing on it only makes you feel guiltier. You need to think about how you wanted to make him happy and how that feedback was essential. Do you already have your last gift?" He raised his eyebrows at the negative. "Better make it good then. Get something properly convincing to show that you know him better, you know? That it was worth it and all." 

"Maybe a book? Or something regarding Potions?" Hermione suggested when she noticed Harry's mounting anxiety. "Does he need anything else?" 

Harry laid the back of his hand on his forehead. He really needed to figure this out even at the expense of his life. 

"Potter?" Malfoy called when he appeared at the common room. He stopped in his tracks at circle of misery before him. "What happened?" He ran forward, dropping to his knees as he took Harry's hand in his. 

"He's worried about his gift exchange partner and his last gift," Ron said. 

Malfoy gaped at Ron. "Oh, honestly!" He scoffed as he threw Harry's hand out of his with an eye roll. "It's not that bad. Your gifts were probably overly thoughtful. They'll love you even more or something," he said as he wedged himself unceremoniously between Harry and Ron on the loveseat.

"Stop moping right now," he jabbed his elbow into Harry's ribs, "you look like it’s your seventy second time having difficulty conceiving. It's unattractive." 

Everyone gaped at Malfoy for the specific comparison. He didn't seem to notice though, occupied at picking lint off his pants. "Any other woes from the _other_ war heroes?" He asked after he had flicked it off. 

Hermione and Ron shook their heads in amusement. 

"How did your meeting go?" Hermione asked. 

"Badly," Malfoy replied with an eye roll. "Pansy’s bent on maximum debauchery, and all I want to do is sleep," he sighed as he squeezed Harry's consoling hand on his knee. 

"Blimey! What will she make us do?" Ron sat up in worry, jostling the cramped seating. 

"That's a secret," Malfoy said as he laced his fingers around Harry's. "But she's bent on knocking the Puffs off their pegs." 

Harry's brows shot up. "Don't they have orgies for parties or something?" 

"Don't worry about your chastity, Potter," Malfoy smirked at him as his eyes dropped to Harry's crotch quickly. He gave Harry a saucy wink, "I'll defend it properly." 

"I'm not–" he sputtered, immediately crossing his legs when Malfoy's eyes wandered again. "Mione!" He begged when Malfoy continued to smile lasciviously at him. 

"I think that it's a good offer," she said evenly with a smile on her face. "Ron and I wouldn't have to worry about you if Draco's chaperoning." 

Harry huffed as everyone laughed at his expense. He pulled his hand out of Malfoy's to have a proper go at sulking. _He could take care of himself, thank you very much!_

"Anyway, shouldn't the both of you be on first names already?" Hermione asked when the laughter subsided. 

Harry's brows creased at the suggestion. _But that was their relationship dynamics!_ Malfoy was Malfoy and he was Potter. Just because the eighth years had become closer didn't mean that his and Malfoy's relationship had to change. He opened his mouth to disagree, only to be cut off by a speculative Malfoy. 

"I've genuinely never noticed," he frowned as he stroked his chin. "That's astute," he complimented Hermione evenly, "Harry, I'll protect you on Wednesday. Harry, Harry. Harry," he repeated as if testing it for a fit. He nodded after a while before looking expectantly at him. 

Privately, it was absolutely bizarre to hear his name on Malfoy's lips and he didn't think there was a need to change anything when it was fine–but everyone was looking at him and he didn't want to disappoint. He cleared his throat nervously, "I don't need your protection, Draco." 

Malfoy–no, Draco–seemed torn between exasperation and glee but the latter finally won out as he laughed with Ron and Hermione. 

"You'll be begging when Pansy has her clutches on you," he commented. "She has made plans already."

"Don't look at me," Hermione shrugged when Harry turned to her pleadingly. 

"What's the point of having prefects for friends if I don't benefit at all?" Harry complained. 

"Not when it's up against Pansy," Ron said as he leaned backwards, effectively pushing Draco closer to Harry in the cramped seat. "But at least it's a nice worry to have. Better than your gift exchange problem if you asked me."

"Oh," Harry said softly at the reminder. 

" _Weasley_ ," Draco yelled, at the same time as time as Hermione said, " _Ronald_!" 

Harry stewed in worry while his friends argued amongst themselves. What if Draco didn't want to talk to him after and they couldn't even have these awful squabbles anymore? It was unthinkably depressing. 

\- 

"Oh, another present!" Draco exclaimed when they finally parted with Hermione and Ron. He sent the spells off as he returned his organiser to his bag. 

"Why is it so small?" He asked Harry as he flipped the gift in his hands. 

Harry hummed from his lazy sprawl on his bed. "Maybe it's a love letter. About your hair. Maybe," he mumbled as he tucked a hand under the warmth of his comforter. Had he been less sleepy, he would have seen Draco gaping at him, face flushed pink with pleasure. But alas, it was past the usual time that they slept, and Harry’s vision was already fuzzy from fatigue. His bed smelled minty, and it was so soft. He could melt in it, maybe. Harry pulled his legs up in foetal position. 

Draco shook himself off as he tore the present open clumsily. He blinked at the note in surprise. "Harry, look! Let's go ice-skating!" He ran over to jostle him when he failed to get the attention that he desired. 

Harry read the note lazily. Draco and him had gone for a walk on the grounds in a fit of insanity a few days ago, and he had noticed that the Great Lake had frozen over. It had been ages since he had last skated, and he still had fond memories of the break they had between Quirrell and Snape's antics. Hoping that Draco would be able to have fun with his friends, he had asked Hermione for the spell she had previously used for their shoes. 

"Has the Lake frozen over properly?" He asked as he returned the paper to Draco. Privately, he had checked with Hermione and gotten an affirmative. 

Draco frowned at him. "I'm not sure," he said slowly. 

"We should ask Hagrid. It'll be fun," he smiled at Draco. "I'll laugh when you fall." 

"Oh, shut up," Draco rolled his eyes at him in amusement. "I'll drag you down with me," he said as he pulled Harry's comforter and gestured for him to move. 

Harry turned over as Draco pulled the comforter out from underneath him. As his spectacles was removed, he vaguely registered that he was being tucked in.

"Goodnight," Harry mumbled as he nuzzled against his pillow. His lids were heavy, and his mind was foggy. He sunk deeper into sleep as a hand pat him softly on the head. 


	13. 19 December, Thursday

Harry snapped to sudden consciousness on the dark wooden floor to the sight of Draco centimetres away from his face. He jerked backwards as he catalogued his surroundings perfunctorily. He was topless in the eighth year common room, his mouth was sour, and Draco was asleep beside him. There was a blanket thrown haphazardly over them. 

He shot up quickly to the sight of more of his classmates on the floor. It was clear that Pansy had succeeded in her goal to eviscerate everyone. 

He cast a quick Tempus, groaning at the time. 

"Draco," he whispered as he shook him lightly on his bare shoulder. "Draco," he repeated with more force, smiling nervously when the boy hummed at him with bleary eyes. 

"Do you want to go to bed," he asked as he waited for Draco to work through his confusion. "It's ten past six right now." 

"Bloody Pansy," he groaned as he stared at the ceiling. 

"Indeed," Harry agreed as he thought about what he had been subjected to the day before, "let's go." 

"This is so bad for my skin. And my mouth tastes like kneazle piss," Draco whispered as they stepped around their classmates. He summoned their clothes, sighing when Harry's shirt shot out from behind the couch. 

The colourful threats to Pansy's existence persisted all the way until they reached their room. 

"I'm going for a shower," Draco said as he dumped their clothes into their hamper. "I need to look good while committing murder," he mumbled, items in hand as he headed for the door. "Are you coming?" 

Harry snapped out of his fixation at the lovebites on Draco's neck. He quickly ran after Draco. Instead of obsessing over what had happened between the endless shots, he needed something to do.

\- 

Hermione saw the opportunity and had taken it. By the morning, a motion was passed with near-unanimous support that Pansy, nor (pre-emptively) the Hufflepuffs in collective would be allowed to organise any subsequent eighth year parties. 

Unlike Hermione, Draco had not been successful in his endeavours–which only confirmed Harry's prior opinions of his capacity for evil. Pansy was entirely unmoved while Draco ranted, blind to his violent gestures. There seemed to be an unspoken 'nobody talks about the Slytherins' party' as most of the Eight Years slumped over their breakfast, miserable and half awake. Harry counted himself lucky, having vomited before he passed out. 

Privately, Harry worried if his tirade would only set Draco further from Pansy's favour. It had been evident yesterday that Pansy had been similarly gunning for Draco as she did him, and they were supposedly friends. Harry watched as Pansy suddenly slapped the table and started gesturing at Draco's face–oh crap–the Slytherins were grinning at him. He quickly shoveled more eggs into his mouth just for something to do. Should he sleep with his wand in hand if tonight in case Pansy came to slit his throat? He peeked at the happenings, unsurprised to see Draco cowering as Pansy began to list off her fingers while the Slytherins nodded in agreement. Draco seemed contrite as he worried at his lips, and Harry felt a wave of sympathy for him. 

Maybe he should have talked Draco out of confronting Pansy. It was too late now; but Harry supposed that it was at least a consolation that Draco looked good while being eviscerated. 


	14. 20 December, Friday

"Merlin, I still have a gift?" Draco asked in confusion when he opened the door. “You have one too,” he continued with a frown, “aren’t the reveals tomorrow? Why do I still get a gift?”

Harry shrugged as he set down his bag. He had gotten a second-last secret exchange gift out of desperation, hoping that it would convince Draco of his sincerity when he inevitably ended up angry. 

Harry tested his own present for spells, frowning when it came clean. There was no reason that he should be getting another gift when his partner had otherwise come across as fairly normal, if not in the possession of a twisted sense of humour.

“Is your present safe?” He asked over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Draco nodded as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Shall we shower first? We could open them before we turn in.” 

Harry looked at the innocuous present lying on his bed once more. It was the last night he was spending with Draco before the winter break, but the present was calling out his name, and he had never been good at managing his impulses.

Draco was collecting his toiletries now, and Harry chewed on his lips. He sighed heavily in defeat. Ultimately, he had always been worse at refusing Draco’s suggestions. Harry quickly peeled off his outerwear to follow him. 

-

“Erm, are you going to cut your hair over the holidays?” Harry asked nervously when he noticed Draco’s fringe falling across his face. 

Draco froze at the edge of Harry’s bed. “Why? Is it too long,” he asked, the flash of shock quickly replaced by confusion.

“No! No, I was just wondering. About what you’ll get up to,” Harry clarified, appalled at how terribly awkward he was being. Watching Draco climbing into his bed was doing his head in.

“Oh, okay. I wouldn’t lob it off,” he said as he reached to touch his hair, “I quite like the ribbons.”

Harry felt faint as a blush crept over Draco’s cheeks. It was a combination of multiple factors–Draco in the Christmas pyjamas he had got him, his unexpected shyness, the appreciation of his gift, the woodsy notes of Draco’s toiletries; his presence up close. His heart was racing, and his stomach was fluttering.

It felt like it had been ages since Draco had sat on his bed, staring at _Broomsticks_ –he had been so frightened that he would scare Draco away then, but they were so much closer now. In fact, he was instead worried that he would be lost without Draco over the holidays. As much as he loved Hermione and Ron, he did not look forward to being left out as they spent time being affectionate during the festive season.

“Let’s hope that your gift isn’t too bad then,” Harry joked as he nodded at the present between Draco’s crossed legs. 

Draco only hummed as he shook his present, “do you want to go first? No, maybe I should,” he said.

Harry nodded eagerly in agreement. He wouldn’t be able to focus on his own gift if he didn’t stop worrying about Draco’s reaction. He bit his lips while Draco peeled his gift open in his excruciatingly slow speed.

“Huh,” Draco mumbled as he inspected the vials that before him.

Knowing that Draco would be returning to assist Narcissa in refurbishing the Manor, Harry had been reminded of the nightmares Draco used to have in the semester. After a bit of agonising, he had purchased natural sleeping aids and bath products to help Draco feel a bit better. 

“What is this?” Harry asked as he reached for the bottle of dried loose leaf chamomile flowers. “I think that they’re dead,” he said stupidly as he narrowed his eyes at it.

“Merlin, it’s ridiculous,” Draco swore under his breath as he replaced the vial in Harry’s hand impatiently with a concentrated bath concoction that boasted calming and muscle relaxing properties.

Harry read the gold letterings for a bit before pretending to give up in disinterest. He counted the vials instead, “that’s a lot of bottles for one present. Does it have a note?”

“Yes,” Draco said as he held up the paper. “ _Dear Draco Malfoy, happy winter solstice. I hope that you’ll have a good sleep over the holidays,_ ” he read aloud as he peered at Harry over the paper. 

“That’s it?” Harry asked when Malfoy didn’t continue. “There’s no sign off?”

“Yeah, there isn’t.”

Harry tried his best to not react. He knew that he had signed off–it was only polite to do so–and Draco was being bizarre as usual. “That’s not very polite. Did they sign off in your other notes?”

“I think so. Maybe they were embarrassed about this. I mean it’s a little weird. Who cares about someone else’s sleep?” He shrugged as he flicked the note out of his hand carelessly. 

Harry felt his heart lurch, his eyes immediately heating up as he watched the note flutter onto the floor. He was ashamed of his presumptuousness. _Should he not have cared so much?_ Tears were rapidly welling up in his eyes. He quickly cast a glamour on himself as he tried to wrestle with his emotions. He had spent so much time on the present, and it had all been for nothing at the end.

“Do you want to vanish it?” He asked as he tried his best to focus on opening his own present instead. He wished that he had been a lot prissier about his wrappers just so that it would take longer. “Oh bloody,” he instead burst into laughter at the sight of his gift.

He fished for the note, his heart bursting in gratitude at the message.

“What does it say?” Draco asked.

“It says that the lubes were on _‘Buy 2, get 1 free’_ discount, and it tells me to use it wisely.” Harry swore to kiss his gift partner tomorrow. They had unwittingly saved him from crying all over Draco. 

Harry wondered if he could give himself a consolatory wank afterwards. Even though he wasn’t in the mood to pull one off, it would probably make him feel better and stop him from wetting his pillow with tears instead.

“Oh,” Draco said quietly as he worried at his lips. Harry kept his newest gift away in his drawer, huffing in amusement at the row of them. He met Draco’s eyes to laugh at it, only to be taken aback by the conflict in them.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked as he got onto his knees in a swift motion. “What happened?” He shifted closer, shocked when Draco’s face crumpled and the boy was suddenly in tears.

“Draco, it’s okay! It’s okay,” he huffed at the vials pressing on his knees. It was indeed a terrible present, he thought as he tried to shove them away, only for them to roll back, into the depression of the bed, where he was crouching. He reached for his wand to vanish them in annoyance. 

“No!” Draco yelled as he pushed his wrist away, “don’t,” he continued, crying harder when Harry frowned at him in confusion. “Please, don’t,” he blubbered when Harry made to swipe them off the bed. Harry instead lifted and set them to his bedside table in frustration as he held Draco tightly.

“It’s okay, it’s okay” he repeated, petting Draco’s hair when the boy continued to blubber into the curve of his neck. Harry’s mind was spinning over the developments that had led to this point. Had the note in his present set Draco off? Or was it Harry’s overdone present? Did Draco suddenly think about what Pansy had made them do during the party?

“Don’t cry, it’ll be okay,” he promised, trying his best to offer consolation for whatever that was plaguing Draco.

He continued petting Draco as his sobs slowly subsided into sniffles. “Do you want to lie down?” Harry asked quietly as he pulled back. His heart ached at the miserable sight before him–Draco’s eyes were bloodshot, his face blotchy and mottled, his nose a dull red.

Reaching for the Muggle tissues that he kept on his bedside table, Harry dabbed at the tears gently while Draco curled up on his bed. Vanishing the snot away as he cleaned Draco’s face, he squeezed Draco’s hands in consolation. 

“Will you lay beside me?” Draco asked quietly. 

Harry blinked, unable to deny the request, much less when Draco looked so pathetic. He settled down in the cramped bed, biting his lip when Draco pulled him closer. His body was responding in excitement to the proximity, but it was such an inappropriate moment.

He shivered when Draco pressed a hand directly to his back; reacting not only to the cool fingers, but also the pleasure that shot up his spine. 

“Are we doing this again?” He whispered when his shirt was pushed up. He shifted as it was pulled off, moaning when Draco pressed soft kisses against his neck while his hands continued to run across the planes of his back. He cock was throbbing, and it felt so good. Harry rutted against Draco lightly, breathless at the familiar sensation of the hard press of Malfoy's length against him. 

"Draco, please," he begged, gasping when he felt Draco's hand over his briefs–the furthest that they had gone. Harry summoned the lube wandlessly and he reached into Draco's underwear to slick the warm length of Draco's cock.

Pressing their nether regions close, he lined their cocks together in the loose circle of his fingers as he moved his hand up and down, twisting when he reached the underside of their swollen dick heads. Draco's breathing was ragged, a litany of Harry's name falling from his lips while he tugged on Harry's hair. 

Quickening his pace when Draco arched into him, Harry pressed his moans against Draco's neck as the pleasure mounted in him. 

"Fuck, Harry, fuck," Draco babbled, his voice breathy and thin as he stiffened. Harry's choked over a helpless sob as he followed, warm cum exploding in his hand. Harry shifted away, looking at Draco as he tried to catch his breath. 

Flushed, sweaty and sated, Draco looked like Harry's wet dream from a few days ago. Harry smiled dopily as he cleaned them off. 

"Can I kiss you?" Harry asked as he leaned in, heart tender from the well of affection, tenderness and happiness from simply looking at Draco. 

Draco pressed their lips together in lieu of a reply, a soft moan escaping his throat when they met clumsily. Harry went slow, moving his lips deliberately as he savoured every moment. Opening his lips slightly, he sucked on Draco's bottom lip, sighing when Draco slid his tongue into his mouth. Harry's skin was buzzing from the simple pleasure, and his mind went blank as he surrendered himself to Draco. They kissed for what seemed like minutes before Draco pulled back, lips swollen and breath heavy. 

"I'll miss you over the Holidays," Draco said after a while, playing with the hair on the nape of Harry's neck while he looked beyond Harry's shoulder in typical Draco caginess.

Harry was disarmed by the honesty. He had realised quickly that Draco had the tendency to push everyone to show their hand while never revealing his, avoiding discussions about his emotions as much as possible. 

“I’ll miss you too,” Harry admitted as he smoothed a hand across Draco’s milky skin. “Maybe we could visit Muggle London after the New Years? Or you could visit the Burrow with your mother. Teddy and Andromeda would be there," he suggested.

Draco worried at his lips, removing his hands as he tucked them under his chin as if making himself smaller. “I don’t think that it’s a good idea. We wouldn’t want to ruin anyone’s day. Andromeda–” he said haltingly as if searching for the right words, “my mother didn’t end things well.”

“Would you mind if I asked them anyway? I’d really like to see you.”

Draco huffed as he pressed his face into Harry's chest, “if you must,” he huffed and Harry laughed fondly at the grudging reluctance in his tone. 

He held Draco close. “Then I will insist,” he said softly as he pressed a kiss on Draco’s fine hair.

They fell asleep that night in each other’s embrace, cautiously excited for the days to come.


	15. 21 December, Saturday

With the week’s lessons being tied to the Winter Solstice, the Great Hall had been dressed up with mismatched decorations from its occupants. Wonky stars, uneven candles and wrinkly snowflakes floated above the tables while holly berries and sprigs of varying freshness lined the perimeter of the room. 

Harry was brimming with happiness as he watched Draco joke with Greg. He had initially been worried about returning to the confines of traditional schooling after the year’s hiatus, but it had brought more than he had expected. 

Without being in perpetual mortal peril, Harry had found himself better able to appreciate Hogwarts in its training for him to be better wizard. It was something he had never considered previously, more invested in knowledge that would ensure his survivability. Most importantly, he had also enjoyed the opportunities to mingle with his classmates, learning with and _from_ them. More so than the other years, Harry felt reluctant to leave for the winter break. He desperately wished that Draco and him would still be on talking terms after dinner.

The hall quieted when the Headmistress took her position at the podium. She straightened her notes before beginning in a stately manner, “Hogwarts, has always prided itself on its diversity, embracing and nurturing the best in its students. However, in the midst of competition, we have forgotten what we are capable of when we come together–a school, generations of inquisitive students, a better future for our friends and families.”

Harry felt Draco squeeze his thigh as his eyes warmed. “Our loved ones, both in our memories and around us, fought for us to sit here today with our friends–both old and new. As we celebrate the shortest day and the longest night tomorrow, I hope that you will share your blessings, and let the light within you shine brighter. Let us examine and let go of our past this holiday. Give the people around you the gift of forgiveness and focus on your goals and intentions for the coming year.”

The hall was silent as the Headmistress looked at her students heavily.

“Finally, I would like to thank you for the participation in our anonymous gift exchange. Today will be our last exchange, but the kindness should not stop here. Do something for a stranger every week, if not every day. Reveals will be conducted over the course of our meal. Please mingle, and make a new friend or two.” She gave a perfunctory nod before returning to her seat while the Hall broke out into applause.

“I’m glad to be sitting here too,” Hermione said as she wiped the tears in her eyes away fiercely. Harry smiled at her in agreement.

“Oh finally,” Ron exclaimed excitedly, withdrawing the hand he had around Hermione when the food appeared.

“Are you going to find your partner now?” Draco asked as the Slytherins got up.

Harry shook his head while helping himself to the grilled chicken. “Probably later,” he said–more like long _long_ later, if not forever. 

“And ruin your meal?” 

Harry looked at the food that he had already amassed on his plate. “I don’t really think that it’s a problem.”

Draco pat his cheek with a sardonic smile before striding off. Craning his neck, Harry watched as Draco tapped Anthony Goldstein on the shoulder to hand him the present he had been fidgeting with the whole afternoon. 

_Bloody Draco, honestly._ Anthony, who had expressed interest in entering Healer training, had been crowing about the books he had received in the common room, even skipping out on the first eighth year party to read the tome on 16th century medical healing.

Somehow the swots all managed to find each other, he thought as Goldstein enveloped Draco in a hug.

“It’s not so bad, huh,” Harry greeted when Draco finally returned to the seat beside him. The other Slytherins had dispersed, and Pansy was seated between Susan Bones and Lisa Turpin, their heads bent together in gossip.

“Tell that to yourself,” Draco said as he reached for the cheese platter, his cheeks flushed with pleasure.

"How did you even get books that cheap?” 

"Secondhand books, or copying from my family's collection,” Draco replied as he helped himself to the leg of ham. 

Harry frowned as he chewed on his food, distinctly aware that Draco was underplaying the effort he put into the presents. After maxing out her borrowing allowance too many times, Harry had suggested that Hermione copy the books, only to be served a discourse about the anti-replication spells in many books and how using magic on the older books would cause them to crumble to dust. Harry looked at Draco pensively. 

“You’re a very nice person, Draco Malfoy,” he said as he bumped Draco’s shoulder amicably. 

“Stop it,” Draco complained as he pushed him away. 

“Draco’s a very nice person,” he said louder, nearly falling onto Ron when Draco tried to shut him up. “You could try glaring harder,” he laughed as Draco glanced around furtively, scowling at anyone who were looking at them. 

"Shut up,” Draco hissed as he straightened his uniform. “I’ll be hauled to Azkaban for flouting copyright law,” he said, lips curling at the edges even though his eyes were serious. 

Harry reached for Draco’s hand as he felt his heart twinge. “I’ll protect you,” he said seriously.

Draco rolled his eyes as he pulled his hand away. “Save it Potter. You’re a saviour past his prime,” he said as he reached for the mashed potatoes. “Imagine not being able to memorise Golpalott’s Three Laws.”

Harry made a face as he served Draco a helping of sausages. “I’ll work on it over the holidays. I promise,” he emphasised when Draco only looked at him sceptically.

“Maybe we should have a Potions lesson over the break.”

“I'll probably need a little more than that since we'll be missing three lessons," Harry suggested hopefully. This way he would definitely be able to see Draco even if he didn't want to visit the Burrow.

A blush crept across Draco's cheeks as he picked at his plate. “I’ll try my best to fit you into my social calendar.”

Harry nodded quickly. Draco had confided previously that his mother was being shunned by her previous circle of high-society wives and she was taking the rejection poorly, working obsessively to salvage the ruined Manor. He knew that Draco was eager to spend time with her, but Harry couldn’t control his desire to see him over the long break. 

“I’ll take any available time,” he said earnestly, "I was serious about Muggle London too."

“Okay,” Draco whispered as his eyes swept across Harry’s face and rested for a moment on Harry’s lips. 

Harry leaned in to press a quick kiss on the underside of Draco’s jaw before returning to his plate with a pleased smile.

“Gonna find your exchange partner?” Ron asked when he received a bag of sweets from Hannah. 

“Shut up,” he hissed, elbowing Ron in the ribs when he noticed Draco’s interest in the comment. 

“How about yourself, Ron? Are _you_ going to find your exchange partner?” Draco asked pointedly as he raised his brows. 

Something in Draco's voice–possibly the smugness–triggered Ron's attention. His hand froze in mid-air as he turned to look at Draco. Setting his spoon down carefully, he narrowed his eyes at Draco, then Harry. "Does he know?” He hissed at Harry.

“Know what?”

Ron looked around quickly before bending close again. “The thing! The thing we did!” He elaborated in exasperation when Harry only continued to stare at him blankly. 

“He doesn’t know, Weasley. Only I do.” 

Ron stared at him in disbelief. “Bloody hell,” he complained as he searched his robes, unshrinking the present as he pulled out. He handed it over to Harry perfunctorily, “how did you even know?” 

Harry flipped the present in his hands, frowning in confusion at the stellotape running crookedly across the parchment. He wished that Hermione wasn’t so busy talking to the fourth year students, just so that someone would explain the situation to him. 

"Well, firstly there was the chocolate frog card that you were looking for. It seemed too convenient that Harry would get something that made you so excited. Secondly, it was how Harry’s partner knew how to circumvent the gift exchange spells with the annual subscription. I was initially convinced that it was a Slytherin, but none of us–” he smirked at Harry, “care that much about Harry that much. Well except for me,” he corrected when Harry made a noise of protest.

“Then I saw the ink stain on one of your wrappers, and it all fell in place. Who cares enough about Harry, benefitted from his gift, thinks that mundane everyday gifts are appropriate, has a terrible sense of humour and is messy?” He wiggled the fingers that he had counted off, raising his brows airily as if welcoming challenge. 

Harry gaped at Ron in shock. “You guys rigged it _twice?”_

Ron shushed him quickly as he set up a Muffliato “How could we not? Did you see how the Hufflepuff girls used to look at you?” 

Harry felt the disbelief in him subside at the reminder. He just wished that they had involved him in their plans instead of leaving him to find out about it through someone else. In retrospect, it was just as well that his partner had been Ron–the lube on promotion had really come useful yesterday. He grinned as he gave Ron a sideways hug, “Draco and I really like the magazine,” he said sincerely. There was so much that he had to update his friends about.

“Draco and you?” Ron questioned, released a sharp bark of laughter when he realised the implied meaning. “I did not need to know that!” 

“No, no! We look at it separately!” Harry explained, groaning when he realised that the clarification had not been helpful at all.

Draco pet him on the head in laughter, “Harry meant to say that we did use your presents wisely.” 

Ron beamed at them shamelessly–after living in a tent together for months on end, they had lost the concept of ‘sensitive topics’ entirely. Ron would tell Harry later–to Harry’s agreement–that he had gifted the lubes and the magazines out of practicality. 

“Is there anything else that I should know?” Harry asked as he pointed his chin at Hermione. 

Ron shook his head as he moved on to the log cakes. “Maybe you should ask your boyfriend.” 

“We’re not–” he broke off as he glanced furtively at Draco. “We haven’t talked about it yet,” he glared at Ron to convey his annoyance. They had been over this multiple times, and Ron’s clumsy meddling was only making things harder for him. He could already feel Draco's nervousness rolling off in waves. 

“Oh, look! Blaise is calling me. Goodbye!” Ron announced, picking up his plate as he scampered away immediately to avoid Harry's ire.

Harry picked at his plate as silence stretched between them. Where should he begin? 

“It’s always nice to be validated,” Draco commented casually as he reached for a cup of chocolate mousse, “what did Ron give you?” 

Harry worried at his lip as he passed the present to Draco, too nervous to think. He was familiar with Draco’s subterfuge to know that if he did not address it himself, Draco would bring it up later at a time more advantageous to himself.

“So Ron and Hermione also rigged the exchange for me to draw your name,” he said quickly when Draco looked at him in confusion for handing him the unopened gift from Ron. 

“And I know that it was creepy of me to watch you open your gift while pretending that I didn’t know anything, but I _really_ wanted to make sure that you liked your gifts, and then I didn’t know how to stop afterwards.” He looked at Draco nervously as he tried to gauge his reaction, despairing when he caught nothing on Draco’s stiff face. 

He reached for Draco’s hand, only to stop himself. He was frightened about how Draco might react. 

“Why would they rig it for you to draw my name?”

“Erm, they were concerned, I guess? That we weren't talking even though we were roommates," he said, slumping when Draco only raised an unimpressed brow at him. _How did Draco always know that he wasn't telling the truth?_

"Erm, so I was a little concerned about how you were doing, and they wanted me to talk to you, but I didn't know how to start, so they rigged it. So that I could do something for you. But I didn't know! I was confused when it happened!" He defended as he raised his both hands reflexively in innocence. 

Draco was biting his lips as he looked at him. He suddenly leaned in to press his lips against Harry's. "You're cute," he said evenly with a small smile when he pulled away. 

Harry blinked at him in shock, astounded when Draco only dug into his dessert. "So you're not mad?" He asked Draco hopefully. 

"Of course I'm not mad. How could I be when you're so sweet?" 

Harry felt his face flush at Draco's bizarre words. "Did you know that I was your partner? How did you know?" He demanded when he noticed the pleased smile on Draco's face. 

Draco set his dessert down with a noisy sigh and an exaggerated eye roll. "It _really_ wasn't that hard. Honestly, I initially thought that you guys would only rig it once, until you started being so dramatic about the reveals. I mean, worrying what they'll think when they find out that you were their partner?" 

Harry ducked his head in embarrassment at Draco's impatient scoff. _It was the best he could come up with!_

"Honestly, why would Harry Potter care so much about what a random person thinks? Well, because he values the person's opinion deeply. But everybody who mattered loves him anyway, so he doesn't have to worry. So then, who does he care about deeply, but isn't impressed by him?" He gestured at himself airily, smirking when Harry gaped at him for the flawless deduction.

"When the answer became obvious, I realised that Ron had probably rigged it twice for you to draw my name, which was why you had your hand in the hat for so long. Everything finally came together," he waved his fingers proudly with a smirk. 

"So you realised it before I gave the ice-skating spell," Harry mumbled as he tried to process his thoughts. "No wonder you were being so weird afterwards! You were always staring at me while opening the gifts! And all those weird questions! _'Oh, why do I have an extra gift, Harry?'_ " He mimicked in a high falsetto. 

Draco shoved at him for the jibe. "I had to confirm my suspicions! You were so good at acting, I had to test you just to be sure. I mean, _'I think that the flowers are dead'_ , honestly?" 

"Test me? What do you mean?" Harry's brows creased as he stared at Draco. As he ran through Draco's comments from the past few days, he finally understood. 

"I can't believe that you did that just to _test_ me! Do you know how long I spent finding that present for you?" Harry felt his heart aching as he remembered how Draco had insulted his gift yesterday just because he wanted Harry to what, cry for him? 

"I had to sneak letters to Hermione to get that for you because you were always around! You were trying to catch me getting things for you, weren't you?" Harry accused when he finally made the connection. He clenched his fists when Draco only bit his lips guiltily. He was vibrating out of his skin in anger, and his palms were hurting from the sharp press of his nails. 

Towards the end, Harry had to beg Hermione to request for his counsel after fictitious arguments with Ron, or he would pretend that he suddenly had very active bowels–just so that he could research and correspond for Draco's gifts. It drove him spare to learn that he had experienced all that trouble because Draco wanted to feel _validated_. Harry pressed his face into his hands so that he would not burst into tears of frustration. _How could someone be so selfish, self-absorbed and thoughtless?_

"I'm sorry. I'm an arse. The biggest arse ever," Draco said quietly while Harry tried to count his breaths so that he would not lose his temper and throttle Draco. 

"I'll sometimes regress and I'll think about how funny it would be to trip you up, and I don't think about how you'll feel. I'm an arse," Draco repeated when Harry glared at him with all the spite he could muster.

"But I never do it intentionally. I mean, when I saw how I had hurt you, and after Ron reminded us to have fun, I realised how I had ruined everything because I was being selfish and childish and I really hated myself. I don't know how I deserve you when I'm still that snotty little boy on the train that you hated upon sight. I'm an arsehole who really doesn't deserve anything," Draco was tearing up now and Harry quickly cast a glamour over him. 

"I don't hate you," Harry sighed as he quickly pulled Draco in for a smothering hug. "And you're not the same boy from the train. Close but not similar," he laughed when Draco pinched him in the waist while sniffling. 

"And you're an arsehole. Like you said, the biggest arse ever." Patting Draco on he back when he started to grumble about being insulted, Harry was aware that his anger had subsided. He shook his head quietly, resigned to the fact that he was too easily manipulated by Draco. Watching Draco cry made his heart ache and Draco would probably always have that in his arsenal. 

"The next time you're doing something questionable like this, you should think about whether I would strangle you when I find out about it. I can't keep giving in just because you're a brat," Harry said seriously when he pulled away. 

Draco nodded solemnly at him, his eyes red from the tears. " _If_ , not _when_ you find out though," he said evenly as he cleared his nose with false airiness. 

Harry rolled his eyes, refusing to warrant the response with a reply.

"Am I going to get my present now?" Draco asked after a while, narrowing his eyes as he watched Harry finish his dinner.

"Didn't you get it already," Harry looked at him in faux surprise, trying to control his laughter when Draco looked around them in confusion. "I gave you the gift of forgiveness as per the Headmistress' instructions."

Harry watched a series of emotions flit through Draco's face–confusion, amusement, anger, frustration, resignation, forced nonchalance, and then bitterness. "You better be giving it to me for Christmas," he said with a sulk as he snatched his mousse up huffily. 

"Only if you behave," Harry smiled as pressed a kiss on Draco's jaw. 

"You're a lousy boyfriend," Draco complained as he pushed him away by the face. 

Harry blinked at him in surprise. A smile spread across his face when Draco glared at him challengingly, as if daring him to argue. 

"The worst." He agreed, heart fluttering in happiness in his chest. 

"You'll have to make it up to me then," Draco said, smiling sweetly as he threaded his fingers between Harry's. 

"You wish." 

Harry laughed when he received a kick to his ankle–he couldn't help but wonder if this was what being free felt like–the infinite possibilities before him, only worrying about when he would next see his significant other, and the impulse to fuck all of his responsibilities and do whatever his brain demanded. 

He pounced on his _boyfriend_ , curling his fingers in Draco's hair as he pulled him close. Harry's lips were on Draco's as he pressed all of his happiness into him. 

Even though they would have a ridiculous number of arguments throughout the span of their lives, Harry would always look back to their first solstice together fondly; and it had all begun with an anonymous gift exchange. 

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to go out on a leg and make every day each chapter. 
> 
> I've also always wanted to write about anonymous gifting, so I'm glad that I've had this opportunity to write ~~and post~~ during Christmas. 
> 
> List of presents in chronological order:  
>  **Harry's presents for Draco**  
>  ✓ Ugly Harry Potter socks (have him under your feet!)  
> ✓ Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter & friends gingerbread men (bite his head off!)  
> ✓ Christmas themed pyjamas (wear something normal for once, please!)  
> ✓ Jingle my Bells for a White Christmas jumper (I hope that you will enjoy the first eighth year party!)  
> ✓ Hair ribbons (I've heard that hair ties disappear all the time. Here's a bit to tide you through for a while)  
> ✓ Skating spell (I hope that I'll get invited!)  
> ✓ Sleeping aids, lavender oils, chamomile tea, bath mixes (I hope that you'll have a good sleep!)  
> ✓ Gift of forgiveness (I hope that you'll stop being such a cunt in future!)
> 
>  **Ron's presents for Harry**  
>  ✓ Bag of chocolate frog  
> ✓ Two bottles of lubricant  
> ✓ Annual subscription to Broomsticks  
> ✓ Treacle tart  
> ✓ One bottle of lubricant  
> ✓ Broomstick servicing kit
> 
> Please point out any mistakes! I'd be deeply appreciative!! There's also two images in the fic, so ~~do inform me~~ if you didn't see any, reload the page in chapters 2 and 3.


End file.
